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THE  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 


BY    THE    SAME    AUTHOR 

TDne 
Oiiii(£(iDmiso(D)it[i§  Mnirndl 

The  object  of  this  work  is  to  establish  the  fact  of  an  uncon- 
scious mind  in  man,  and  to  trace  in  brief  some  of  its  powers  and 
the  various  ways  in  which  they  are  exhibited.  The  work  seeks  to 
show  that  this  mind  is  the  seat  of  character  and  of  conscience  and 
spirit-life,  and  a  most  important  factor  in  psychical  and  physical 
life.  The  subjects  of  habit,  memory,  muscular  action,  therapeu- 
tics, education,  sensation,  disease,  character,  sex,  etc.,  are  discussed 
in  their  relation  to  the  unconscious  mind. 

REPRESENTATIVE   OPINIONS 

Z>.  E.  MEBWIN,  Sec'y  and  Treas.  Kansas  Commercial  Co.,  Kansas 
City,  Mo. :  "  We  see  In  tMs  theory  the  promise  and  potency  of  a  new  educa- 
tion, the  ground  of  an  effective  therapeutics,  and  likewise  an  ethical  system 
not  perverted  or  heavily  encumbered  by  commercial  ideas.  Parents,  teach- 
ers, physicians,  lawyers,  judges,  and  legislators  can  not  afford  to  remain  in 
ignorance  of  this  theory  which  lays  its  preemption  upon  the  very  founda- 
tions of  physical  health,  mind,  and  character." 

W.  BE  HAVEN EACHES,  M.D.,  Phoenlxville,  Pa.:  "The  facts  and 
theories  pertaining  to  the  existence  and  characteristics  of  an  '  Unconscious 
Mind  ^  are  presented  With  great  force  and  clearness,  and  appear  to  me  to  be 
incontrovertible.    The  book  should  be  read  by  every  physician." 

J.  A.  HAGEMANN,  M.D.,  Pittsburg,  Pa.:  "It  contains  the  summum 
bonum  in  psychological  literature  up  to  date.  The  student  will  find  in  it  a 
resume  of  the  writings  of  the  foremost  psychologists,  and  the  educator  will 
be  the  better  equipped  for  having  perused  it." 

T.  M.  HARTMAN,  D.D.,  McKeesport,  Pa.:  "It  is  a  masterly  book  on 
a  subject  that  demands  the  earnest  consideration  of  all  scholars  and  think- 
ers, and  is  intensely  fascinating  from  lid  to  lid." 

8vo^  Cloth,  451  pages.     With  copious  index  and  several 
diagrams.    Price,  $2.00. 


FUNK    &  WAGNALLS    COMPANY. 
New  York 


Publishers 


nnhe  Springs  of  Character 

^      by  A.  T.  ScHOFiELD  m.d.  Author 


of  "  The    Unconscious    Mind 
etc. 


>9 


NEW   YORK:    FUNK    AND 
WAGNALLS     COMPANY 


s^^) 


EDUC.  r  / 

PSYCH. 

LIBRARY 


_fz?  3  3 
CONTENTS  f^       ,       - 

PSYCH. 
CHAPTER  I.  UBRART 

PAGE 

Gharacter  and  the  Mind 1 


CHAPTER  H 
Thb  Personality  of  Character 13 

CHAPTER  III. 
Character  and  the  Body 29 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Character  and  Ethics 42 

CHAPTER  V. 
Character  and  Heredity 56 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Characteb  and  Harit 69 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Character  and  Growth .      88 


286 


X  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

PAOK 

Analysis  of  Character 112 


CHAPTER  IX. 
The  Qualities  of  Character 137 

CHAPTER  X. 
Character  and  the  Will 153 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Character  and  Conduct 162 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Character  and  Conscience 170 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Character  and  Christianity 205 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Character  and  Destiny 220 

List  of  Books  on  the  Subject 233 

Index         .        . .        .  237 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHARACTER  AND  THE  MIND. 

The  word  character  means  the  mark  a  Babylonian  what  char 
brickmaker  stamped  upon  the  bricks  he  made.  Character 
is  the  stamp  of  the  individual,  and  all  personality  is  ulti- 
mately based  upon  it  The  word  is  here  used  throughout 
in  a  purely  popular  way,  as  the  sum  of  the  distinctive 
(differences  in  our  mental  and  moral  qualities.  "^ 

Character  may  bp  defined  as  the  personal  shape  the 
mind  becomes  by  use,  as  a  glove  or  a  shoe  soon  acquires 
the  outlines  of  its  owner's  hand  or  foot. 

Character  is  the  psychical,  as  the  body  is  the  phy- 
sical representation  or  presentment  of  the  individual,  and 
inasmuch  as  "  I "  am  a  spirit  and  not  a  body,  character 
is  the  true  outward  personality,  the  eiKtov  of  the  e^-o ; 
character,  moreover,  is  no  mere  sum  of  isolated  qualities, 
it  is  an  organic  whole ;  just  as  the  body  is  an  unit,  and 
not  a  mere  aggregation  of  units  and  organs.  It  is,  as 
Stout  would  say,^  "  a  noetic  synthesis  ". 

The  word  character  may,  of  course,  be  used  in  two 
senses — (i)  as  the  general  sum  of  all  mental  qualities,  or 
(2)  as  the  sum  of  the  moral  qualities  specially.  We  shall 
use  the  word  in  both  ways. 

*Q.  F.  Stout,  Analytical  Psychology, 
I 


^\,wy.-.   /,;, 


^  fgi  •      JO-  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

^^^^  /^^^ 

The  springs  We  fear  that  the  title  of  the  book  perhaps  rather 

of  Character. 

/,,  s  f  i  conceals  than  reveals  its  true  scope  :  for  in  the  first  place 

the  consideration  of  character  involves  more  than  the 
investigation  of  its  sources ;  and  secondly,  the  word 
"  spring  "  has  two  or  more  meanings.  It  is  both  a  source 
of  being  and  a  source  of  power,  besides  being  a  season  of 
the  year.  The  Thames  originates  from  springs,  and  all 
watches  go  by  springs.  It  will  naturally  be  asked  then 
why  a  more  descriptive  title  was  not  selected ;  and  the 
answer  is  that  it  is  because  the  most  interesting  questions 
concerning  character  are  its  springs,  in  both  meanings  of 
the  word  ;  this  being  also  the  part  of  the  subject  about 
which  least  is  known. 

The  springs  or  sources  of  character  are  the  instincts 
of  heredity  in  the  unconscious  mind,  supplemented 
by  others  acquired  during  life  through  habit ;  while 
V  the  spring  or  force  of  character  lies  in  the  conscious 
Xwill  or  purpose.  It  is  the  former  springs  which  are  a 
part  of  character,  the  latter  is  also  an  agent.  Deeper 
again,  more  powerful,  and  more  inscrutable  than  even 
these  in  the  Christian  mind,  acting  as  a  hidden  source  of 
inspiration  and  energy,  is  found  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Books  on  character  are  few  and  far  between  ;  and  are 
particularly  rare  in  this  country.  The  whole  matter  is 
so  elusive,  so  difficult  of  definition,  and  indeed  so  im- 
possible of  any  analysis,  unless  the  unconscious  powers 
of  mind  be  fully  recognised,  that  we  are  quite  sure  this 
is  a  needed  preliminary,  and  it  is  probable  that  when 
"mind"  is  granted  its  full  scope  we  shall  have  mo.e 
and  better  books  on  character  than  we  have  at  present. 


CHARACTER   AND    THE   MIND 


3 


In  considering  what  character  is,  what  are  its  sources, 
and  how  it  is  formed,  we  are  at  once  met  with  this  initial 
difficulty,  due,  as  we  shall  see,  to  the  present  position  of 
some  of  our  leading  psychologists. 

Character  is  an  intricate  complex  of  psychic  elements,  Character  lies 

1111  ,        ,      -  -  .in  the  Uncon- 

and,  though  the  most  valued  of  our  personal  possessions,  scious. 
is  only  known  very  partially  to  us  by  conscious  efforts 
of  introspection.  It  is  mainly  discerned  by  observa- 
tion of  its  manifestations  in  action  ;  and  we  thus  arrive 
at  our  knowledge  of  character  largely  by  inference,  mostly 
from  noting  the  influence  it  has  on  conscious  life ;  just 
as  we  discover  an  invisible  planet  by  the  perturbations 
it  produces  in  other  bodies.  We  arrive  at  the  Uncon- 
scious from  its  well  ascertained  effects  in  Consciousness. 
"  The  qualities  of  modesty,  shame,  mother  love,  etc., 
clearly  to  be  seen  in  their  manifestations,  spring  from  the  | 
instincts  hidden  in  the  imconscious  depths  of  our  being."  ^  ^ 

And  yet  the  psychic  is  still  dogmatically  and  impera-  The  Uncon- 

.      1      , .      .       1  .  1  1-1  1       •  -         scious  Mind 

tively  limited  to  consciousness  by  many  high  authorities  ;  denied. 
and  the  scorn  and  contempt  aroused  by  seeking  to  extend 
it  are  remarkably  out  of  place  in  such  a  purely  intel- 
lectual matter.  We  are  told  that  to  talk  of  uncon- 
scious mental  states  is  to  talk  of  the  inconceivable ;  of 
**  wooden -iron  '*.  "  The  psychical  ts  the  conscious,"  • 
says  one ;  another  observes :  "  all  and  only  the  pheno- 
mena that  are  conscious  are  psychical  .  .  .  the  psychical 
and  the  conscious  are  for  us  .  .  .  identical"';  while  a 

*  Ribot,  Heredity  f  pp.  226,  228. 

•G.  T.  Ladd,  Philosophy  of  Mind,  pp.  384,  385, 

■Prof.  Ziehen,  Psychology,  pp.  4,  5. 


4  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

third  declares  that  "nothing  shall  induce  us  to  corrupt 
our  speculation  with  monstrous  marriages  of  contra- 
dictory notions"*  (?>.,  of  unconscious  mind). 

However,  in  spite  of  this  fervour  of  contradiction,  we 
do  not  think  the  works  of  one  of  such  psychologists  can 
be  searched  without  discovering  unconscious  psychism 
clearly  implied,  and  indeed  in  some  absolutely  stated. 

The  fact  is,  truth  is  generally  greater  than  our 
definitions,  and,  as  long  as  we  distinguish  mind  from 
matter,  we  must  include  in  the  former  every  form  of 
psychic  action,  whether  conducted  in  or  out  of  con- 
sciousness. 

It  is  now  beginning  to  be  seen  that  the  greater  part 
of  the  mind  is  in  an  unconscious  state;  but  that  its 
middle  registers  are  fitfully  illumined  in  varying  degree 
by  consciousness.  It  is  to  these  middle  registers  that 
the  word  "mind"  has  been  unwisely  limited — whereas 
it  pertains  rightly  to  the  whole,  on  the  ground  of  com- 
mon characters  of  psychic  action. 

Kant  well  says,  "  Unanswerable  are  the  sensations 
of  perception  of  which  we  are  not  conscious.  The  clear 
ideas,  indeed,  are  but  an  infinitely  small  fraction  of  the 
whole.  That  only  a  few  spots  in  the  great  chart  of  our 
minds  are  illuminated  may  well  fill  us  with  amazement 
in  contemplating  this  nature  of  ours.*' '  Prof.  Whittaker 
observes,  "  The  facts  of  physiology  have  led  psychologists 
to  see  that  the  series  of  states  of  consciousness  .  .  .  only 
form  a  portion  of  the  mental  life.    At  first  it  seems  like 

^  Prof.  Royce,  Mind,  voL  viiu,  ]»•  33. 
■  E.  Kant,  Anthropologica,  sec.  T, 


CHARACTER  AND   THE   MIND  5 

a  contradiction  to  speak  of  facts  of  unconsciousness  as 
belonging  to  psychology.  The  study  of  physiology  was 
necessary  to  bring  out  clearly  the  conception  of  uncon- 
scious feelings  as  factors  in  mental  phenomena."  ^ 

It  must  be  well  understood  that  we  have  no  wish 
whatever  to  speak  of  two  minds — conscious  and  uncon- 
scious ;  but  simply  to  have  it  recognised  that  when  we 
use  the  word  mind  we  include  any  and  every  psychic 
process.  It  is  only  the  arbitrary  limitations  that  still 
rule  many  minds  that  oblige  us  so  frequently  to  use 
the  term  "unconscious". 

Schopenhauer,  curiously  enough,  calls  this  **  the  better  Unconscious 

,,  .  ,      is  the  best 

consciousness  ;  others,  with  a  view  to  peace,  call  it  "  the  name, 
sub-conscious "  ;  M*Cunn  ^  calls  the  unconscious  "  the 
soul,"  which  is  confusing,  so  that  on  the  whole  we 
Slink  the  prefix  "  un  "  gives  the  clearest  meaning.  Dr. 
Creighton  remarks,  "  Our  conscious  life  is  the  sum  of 
these  entrances  and  exits.  Behind  the  scenes,  as  we 
infer,  there  lies  a  vast  reserve  which  we  call  *  the  un- 
conscious,' finding  a  name  for  it  by  the  simple  device 
of  prefixing  the  negative  particle.  .  .  .  The  basis  of 
all  that  lies  behind  the  scenes  is  the  mere  negative  of 
consciousness."  * 

Now  the  unconscious  is  by  far  the  larger  side  of  our 
mental  life,  and  its  value  is  enormous.  It  is  not  only 
the  guiding  power  of  the  body  personified  by  physio- 
logists as  "  Nature  "  or  as  "  Physiology  "  with  a  big  P, 

*  Prof.  Whittaker,  Essays  on  Psychology ^  p.  48. 

*  The  Making  of  Character ^  M'Cunn,  p,  7, 
'  C.  Creighton,  Unconscious  Memory,  p.  7. 


6  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

and  of  the  feminine  gender  (Sir  M.  Foster) ;  but  it 
guides  behind  the  scenes  our  psychic  life.  It  furthers 
the  conscious  process  of  thought  by  its  inspirations  in 
small  as  in  great  matters.  That  the  unconscious  can 
really  outdo  the  conscious  is  seen  in  those  fortunate 
individuals  who  possess  naturally  all  that  others  acquire 
by  toil,  do  all  with  a  happy  knack  and  innate  tact, 
endowed  in  all  things  with  a  right  instinct. 

Most  improvement  is  by  effort  and  purpose;  and 
as  the  unconscious  knows  neither  one  nor  the  other, 
the  conscious  is  our  nobler  part.  It  is  this  we  can  alone 
guide  and  control.  The  unconscious  may  be  influenced 
and  altered  indirectly,  but  never  takes  direct  orders; 
while  the  conscious  is  an  ever-ready  servant. 
Wundt  on  the        The  accuracy  of  the  unconscious  in  its  workings  is 

Unconscious.  .,  _,-  t  xtt        i  r      t 

pomted  out  as  follows  by  Wundt,  one  of  the  most 
weighty  and  brilliant  philosophers  of  the  day.  He 
admits  "the  necessity  of  referring  the  origin  of  sensuous 
perceptions,  and  of  consciousness  in  general,  to  uncon- 
scious logical  processes  ;  since  the  processes  of  perception 
are  of  an  unconscious  nature  ;  and  only  their  results  are 
wont  to  appear  in  consciousness.  It  is  proved  that  there 
is  not  merely  a  conscious,  but  also  an  unconscious  think- 
ing. We  believe  that  we  have  hereby  completely  proved 
that  the  assumption  of  unconscious  logical  processes 
correctly  declares  the  real  nature  of  these  processes.  The 
unconscious  logical  processes  are  carried  on  with  a  cer- 
tainty and  regularity  which  would  be  impossible  where 
there  exists  the  possibility  of  error.  Our  mind  (as  a 
whole)  is  so  happily  designed   that  it  prepares  for  us 


CHARACTER   AND   THE   MIND  y 

the  most  important  foundations  of  cognition,  whilst  we 
have  not  the  sh'ghtest  apprehension  of  the  modus  operandi. 
This  Ui  conscious  soul,  like  a  benevolent  stranger,  works 
and  makes  provision  for  our  benefit,  pouring  only  the 
mature  fruit  into  our  laps."^ 

We  make  no  apology  for  this  long  quotation,  as  it 
affords  a  good  foundation  for,  and  throws  much  light 
upon,  a  great  deal  that  will  follow. 

It  will  be  observed  that  Wundt  clearly  recognises  this 
unconscious  action  as  being  part  of,  and  having  all  the 
characters  of  mind.  Those  who  deny  this  explain  such 
action  as  being  the  result  of  the  mere  mechanical  in- 
teraction of  neurons. 

To  call  conscious  psychic  action  a  mental  process.  Unconscious 

Action  is 

and   unconscious  psychic  action  a  neural  (mechanical)  Mental. 
process,  is  the  absurd  result  of  the  psychology  of  which 
we  have  spoken. 

C.  H.  Lewes  says  "  we  class  the  changes  in  the  sen- 
sorium  under  three  heads,  of  varying  relative  intensity, 
and  call  them  conscious,  sub-conscious  and  unconscious 
states.  The  two  first  are  admitted  by  all  writers.  The 
last  is  proved  to  have  an  equal  claim,  for  the  unconscious 
processes  not  only  take  place  in  the  same  organs  as 
the  others,  but  are  shown  to  have  the  cardinal  char- 
acter of  sentient  states,  by  their  influence  in  determining 
ideas  to  actions.  The  fact  of  unconscious  intellectual 
processes  carries  an  important  consequence,  for  it  dis- 
proves the  notion  that  psychology  can  be  limited  to  the 

*  Wundt,  Beitrage  sur  Theorie^  etc.,  pp.  169,  375,  436,  488. 


t  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

fact  of  consciousness,  as  this  would  exclude  the  greater 
part  of  our  mental  life,  etc.  "  ^ 

We  shall  recur  to  the  mental  character  of  unconscious 
action  further  on,  when  we  speak  of  habit ;  but  we  may 
here  point  out  the  close  analogy  between  mental  and 
physical  operations.  We  eat  our  food,  but  of  the  steps 
by  which  it  is  digested  and  assimilated  we  are  as  uncon- 
scious as  we  are  of  the  way  in  which  ideas  may  be 
incorporated  in  our  characters.  One  thing  we  know, 
that  indigestible  ideas,  like  food,  cause  mental  pain  and 
dyspepsia. 

Perhaps  we  have  said  enough  now  to  show  there  is  a 
large  and  important  sphere  of  psychic  action  lying  outside 
consciousness,  which  we  call  the  unconscious  mind  ;  and 
it  is  this  sphere  that  is  the  hidden  home  of  character. 
"  When  I  watch,"  says  Emerson,  "  that  flowing  river 
•which,  out  of  regions  I  see  not,  pours  for  a  season  its 
stream  into  me,  I  see  that  I  am  not  ...  a  cause,  but  a 
surprised  spectator  of  this  ethereal  water."  In  such 
absolutely  unconscious  regions  do  the  foundations  of  our 
character  lie,  that  we  are  often  ourselves  surprised  at  the 
instincts  that  rise  therefrom  ;  while,  as  a  whole,  our 
character  defies  the  closest  introspection.  The  deepest 
and  most  intuitive  qualities  indeed  often  assert  them- 
selves with  such  authority  as  to  carry  conviction  that 
they  speak  with  a  voice  other  than  our  own.  One 
perhaps  sees  this  best  in  early  years  before  custom  and 
education  have  overlaid  these  deep  instincts  of  the  soul 

>  C.  H.  Lewes,  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind,  part  i.,  pp.  19,  la 


CHARACTER  AND   THE  MIND  9 

with  poorer  material,  as  is  often  the  case.  "  The  chief 
gain  of  increased  consciousness,"  says  Maeterlink,  "is 
that  it  unveils  an  ever  loftier  unconsciousness  on  whose 
heights  do  the  sources  lie  of  the  purest  wisdom."  ^  The 
"hall  mark"  of  the  Divine  potter  is  still  imprinted  in 
the  human  clay. 

It  is  these  flashes  of  truth  from  the  unconscious 
logical,  aesthetic  and  moral  instincts  that  reveal  to  us  how 
"  the  life  is  the  light  of  men  ".^ 

The  laws  of  the  formation  of  character  can  only  be  Formation  of 
found  by  the  deductive  method,  setting  out  from  general 
laws  of  ethics,  and  verifying  them  individually  by  specific 
experience. 

"  Each  man's  character  is  the  product  of  particular 
environmental  influences,  acting  upon  a  particular  set 
congenital  properties  or  tendencies.**^  We  may  say, 
"  I  am  the  product  of  all  I  have  felt  .  .  .  not  a  thrill 
passes  through  the  body  but  our  sensorium  is  altered 
by  it  .  .  .  the  sum  of  such  traces  is  the  human  life".* 
The  chief  product  and  expression  of  human  life  is  the 
formation  of  character  by  a  process  which  is  mostly  un- 
conscious. 

Sir  William  Jones  in  his  Andromata^  assuming  life  to 
last  till  seventy,  thus  divides  it : — 

1 .  Thirty  years  for  acquiring  knowledge  and  for  form- 
ing character. 

2.  Twenty  years  for  active  occupation. 

^  Maeterlink,  Wisdom  and  Destiny,  p.  20. 

*St.  John,  i.  4.  'J.  Sully,  Human  Mind,  ii.,  p.  283. 

*  C.  H.  Lewes,  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind,  3rd  series,  p.  87. 


"'1 


M  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

3.  Ten  years  gradually  replacing  hard  work  by  intel- 
lectual occupation. 

4.  Ten  years'  leisure  and  preparation  for  the  future 
life. 

However  seldom  this  typical  programme  may  be 
carried  out,  it  is  at  all  events  certain  that  it  is  mainly 
in  the  first  thirty  years  that  the  character  is  formed. 

The  life  corresponds  more  or  less  with  the  character 
of  which  it  is  the  outcome.  If  we  know  the  character 
first,  we  can  predict  effect  from  cause.  It  is  on  account 
of  varieties  of  character  that  the  same  causes  affect 
people  differently.  One  derives  great  pleasure  from 
study  and  little  from  sport,  and  vtcg  versd.  Another 
will  die  for  his  honour,  while  his  neighbour  sells  it  for 
a  song.  The  reason  of  the  differences  is  by  no  means 
always  clearly  visible. 

The  very  difficulty  of  reading  character,  as  well  as 
its  interest,  lends  an  absorbing  fascination  to  this  study. 
For  this  reason  biographies  are  of  more  interest  than 
histories  ;  the  former  being  more  occupied  with  char- 
acters, the  latter  with  events. 

Consider,  too,  the  universal  importance  of  character^ 
as  property  in  the  whole  of  life.  Beginning  with  the 
word  in  its  lowest  meaning.  What  is  a  servant  without 
a  "  character  " ;  and  who  can  get  chosen  to  any  position  oC 
trust  without  such  testimonials  ?  And  so  throughout 
life  we  find  that  character  is  property,  which  may,  how- 
ever, technically  be  lost.  Sometimes  it  is  the  only 
property  a  person  has ;  though  usually,  if  one  has  it  he 
has  much  besides  ;  for  our  very  fortunes  in  a  deep  sense 


CHARACTER  AND  THE  MIND  n 

are  the  fruits  of  our  character.     People  of  good  character  i 
are  indeed  masters  of  the  art  of  living,  and  a  character  I 
noble   in   thought  and  deed   has  the  elements  of  im- 
mortality. 

We  live  in  deeds,  not  years ;  in  thoughts,  not  breaths, 

In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a  dial. 
We  should  count  time  by  heart  throbs.     He  most  livei 
Who  thinks  most,  feels  the  noblest,  acts  the  best. 
It  matters  not  how  long  we  live,  but  how. 

Our  circumstances  are  little,  our  character  is  all.  No 
change  of  circumstances  can  of  itself  repair  a  defective 
character. 

Epictetus  says,  **  Happiness  is  not  in  strength,  or 
wealth,  or  power,  or  all  three.  It  lies  in  ourselves,  in 
true  freedom,  in  the  conquest  of  every  ignoble  fear,  in 
perfect  self-government,  in  a  power  of  contentment 
and  peace,  and  the  even  flow  of  life,  even  in  poverty, 
exile,  disease  and  the  very  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death." 

Characters  respond  to  very  various  motives.     Many  Motives  of 
are  bad  and  unworthy.     We  will  consider  a  few  that 
are  good.     Some  characters  (those  of  a  loyal  type)  re- 
spond most  readily  to  the  opinion  of  other  men  ;  or 
to  their  pledges  or  obligations  to  others^ 

Others  of  a  conservative  type  are  more  self-reliant, 
and  act  from  loyalty  to  themselves. 

Others,  again,  of  an  aesthetic  type  are  appealed  to 
most  by  the  sense  of  the  fitness  and  beauty  of  a  good 
action.     Such  are  described  by  Aristotle. 

Others,  again,  of  an  emotional  type  (^^.,  Charles 


»  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

James  Fox)   respond  to  a  consideration  of  the  conse- 
quences of  action  and  pleasure  or  pain  ensuing. 

Others  of  an  intellectual  type  ie.£^.,  William  Pitt) 
act  from  logical  causes,  seeing  the  unreasonableness  of 
sin  and  its  inherent  folly. 

And  yet  others  of  a  Christian  type  respond  most  to 
a  knowledge  of  the  will  and  purpose  of  God  in  their 
being. 

The  perfect  type  of  character  may  be  said  to  include 
in  differing  degrees  all  these  motives  in  its  activities. 
Intellect  and  Intellect  itself  has  no  necessary  connection  with  good- 

ness of  character.  Some  of  the  cleverest  men  have  been 
the  most  wicked,  and  some  of  the  stupidest  have  the  best 
moral  characters.  Happiness  is  no  criterion  of  a  goodv 
character.  Some  very  low  types  that  are  absolutely  non- 
^  progressive  pass  through  life  with  a  lazy,  spontaneous 
enjoyment  that  is,  after  all,  rather  physical  than  psychi- 
cal. 

The  formation  of  character  gives  a  value  and  an 
interest  to  life  that  alone  makes  it  intelligible.  Some 
of  us  may  remember  the  man  in  a  recent  popular  society 
novel  ^  standing  on  the  steps  of  the  Royal  Exchange  and 
surveying  the  hurrying  crowds  of  human  ants,  and  won- 
dering what  it  all  meant.  It  is  by  the  light  of  its  moral 
end  alone  that  life  receives  any  rational  meaning,  or  this 
question  a  satisfactory  answer. 


»  R.  Whiteing,  The  Island  and  No.  5,  yohn  Street. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  PERSONALITY  OF  CHARACTER, 

My  character  is  my  personality,  or,  if  it  be  preferred,  its  My  character 
mental  expression,  just  as  the  body  is  its  physical  expres- 
sion.      Inasmuch,  however,  as    I    myself  am   spiritual^ 
rather  than  material,  my  character  is  far  more  myself 
than  my  body. 

"  My  body  is  my  image  in  the  minds  of  others,  my 
spiritual  powers  form  the  natural  ME."* 

**  Character  means  Personality,  and  personality  may  ' 
be  felt,  but  cannot  be  explained."  ^ 

**  The  final  stage  of  self-consciousness  is  the  know- 
ledge of  a  personality,  t,e.,  a  character.  This  is  the 
highest  exercise  of  abstract  thought,"*  and  the  reason 
why  the  knowledge  of  a  personality  is  the  final  stage 
is  because  its  sphere  and  home  are  so  deep  in  the 
unconscious  mind.  Nothing  is  stronger  than  the  feeling 
of  individuality,  and  yet  any  knowledge  and  scrutiny  of 
the  egOy  or  of  its  expression  in  character,  require  a  strong 
intellectual  effort  of  introspection  and  self-analysis. 

*  W.  James,  Psychology ,  p.  194. 
■L.  Courtenay,  National  Review,  March,  1890,  p.  29. 
'J.  Sully,  Human  Mind,  i.,  p.  480. 
(13) 


14  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Herbert  Spencer  says  that  the  <f^<?  is  the  "  nexus  " 
that  holds  "  states  of  consciousness  "  together.  But  it 
holds,  as  we  see,  more  than  this.  Our  spiritual  life  as  a 
whole  is  our  e^o.  The  eg-o  is  the  same  continuously,  and 
yet  continually  changes.  We  look  back  on  what  we 
were,  and  see  we  are  not  the  same  now,  and  yet  there  is 
no  doubt  as  to  the  identity  of  the  personality.  Some 
traits,  of  course,  always  remain  the  same,  but  it  is  hardly 
on  these  that  the  sense  of  identity  depends,  though  they 
confirm  it.  It  is  rather  in  the  continuous  inherent  life  of 
the  spirit,  though  generations  of  nerve  tissue  in  the  brain 
may  perish  ;  just  as  in  the  body,  though  in  its  cells  it  dies 
and  changes  daily,  yet  it  is  the  same  body  as  long  as  it 
is  indwellt  by  the  same  spirit. 

In  common  parlance  we  speak  of  our  character  as 
ourselves.  We  talk  of  being  ashamed  of  ourselves,  of 
expressing  ourselves,  of  educating  ourselves,  etc.  And 
this  is  truer  than  we  think.  No  doubt  at  present  the 
outward  bodily  form,  and  even  the  dress  and  mannerisms 
are  all  essential  to  complete  the  mental  picture  of  our 
friend  ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  when  all  these  have 
passed  away  it  will  be  the  character  that  will  preserve  the 
personality  and  the  identity.  We  shall  be  no  mere 
replicas  of  each  other  hereafter  ;  the  individuality  of 
character  will  be  still  preserved,  and  one  star  will 
differ  from  another  even  "  in  glory  **. 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  with  the  increased  importance 
that  now  attaches  to  individuality  and  personality,  the 
study  of  character  has  a  special  interest.  It  is  more  and 
more  clearly  seen  that  to  begin  with  the  social  at  the 


THE  PERSONALITY  OP  CHARACTER  19 

expense  of  the  personal  is  really  to  check  progress; 
whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  the  development  of  the 
individual  means  the  development  of  society  and  of  the 
nation.  We  must  progress  from  within  outward,  and 
all  improvement,  like  charity,  should  begin  at  home. 

When  we  come  to  look  a  little  more  closely  into  the  The  variews 

Selves. 

question,  we  observe  that  although  our  true  personality 
is  ongj  there  are  several  fictitious  selves.  We  all  know 
Wendell  Holmes'  "  three  Johns  "—the  real  John,  the 
John  as  seen  by  himself,  and  the  John  as  seen  by  others  ; 
and  we  remember  how  on  this  being  explained  by  the 
"Autocrat "  to  the  astonished  John,  he  immediately  acted 
on  the  information,  and  ate  three  breakfasts — one  for 
each.  We  can  even  go  a  step  farther  than  this  ;  for  we 
think  besides  the  real  John,  there  are  always  at  least  three 
more  or  less  fictitious  Johns,  and  sometimes  four 
clearly  distinguishable.  There  is  John  himself,  the 
supposed  John,  the  artificial  John,  and  the  John  seen  by 
others. 

I.  TAere  is  first  the  real  self,  that  is  the  character  and  Th*  iwl  Self 
personality  of  which  there  is  no  duplicate.  This  ego  is 
known  only  to  God,  and  He  discerns  it  not  so  much  by 
any  of  its  projections  in  deeds,  or  words,  or  even  thoughts, 
but  in  motives  and  springs  of  action.  He  is  a  discerner 
"  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart  '*.  To  Him  as 
omniscient  all  things  are  "  naked  and  open  " ;  and  all 
that  lies  in  us  in  unconsciousness  is  not  only  as  clear  as 
all  that  lies  in  consciousness  is  to  us,  but  is  seen  by  an 
eye  that  is  not  only  all-seeing  but  all -wise,  and  that  under- 
stands the  inwardness  and  true  meaning  of  all  it  sees. 


K  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

"Thou,  O  God,  therefore,  knowest  us  altogether,  and 
understandest  our  thoughts  afar  off."  Such  indeed  is 
not  only  the  biblical,  but  the  only  possible  view  of  the 
powers  of  the  Almighty. 

The  anthropomorphic  language  in  which  this  truth  is 
stated  will  be  pardoned  when  it  is  remembered  that  all 
our  conceptions  of  the  Infinite  must  necessarily  be  pre- 
sented in  language  coined  to  ejcpress  the  finite. 

This  real  true  self,  however,  never  stands  fully 
revealed  to  its  possessor.  Our  character  is  never  in 
sight  as  a  whole.  Indeed  we  are  more  easily  seen 
**  as  a  whole  "  by  others.  Full  self  diagnosis  as  well  as 
prognosis,  or  seeing  what  we  shall  become,  is  to  us  alike 
impossible. 

Even  with  the  utmost  introspection  our  consciousness 
never  lights  up  the  whole  of  our  personal  temperament, 
or  shows  us  why  we  feel  or  think  as  we  do. 

"  He  who  thinks  to  illuminate  the  whole  range  of 
mental  action  by  the  light  of  his  own  consciousness  is  not 
unlike  one  who  should  go  about  to  illuminate  the  universe 
with  a  rushlight."  * 

To  be  capable  to  any  extent  by  introspection  of  true 
self-knowledge  is  one  of  the  rarest  of  attainments. 

We  are  more  than  we  know,  because,  as  we  have 
seen,  the  home  of  the  "  we  "  is  in  the  Unconscious  ;  and, 
indeed,  it  is  when  we  are  acting  with  the  minimum  of 
consciousness  that  our  individuality  is  most  strongly 
expressed. 

We   have   already   spoken    of  the    e^o  or    self  as 

*  Maudsley,  Physiology  of  Mind,  p.  44. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  CHARACTER  17 

permanent,  though  changing  day  by  day.  Herbert 
Spencer,  though  regarding  the  e£^o  as  "the  transitory 
state  of  the  moment,"  yet  admits  the  existence  of 
a  permanent  ego  which  cannot  be  known. 

"  I  am,"  if  used  absolutely,  cannot  of  course  be  the 
language  of  our  eg-o.  Such  is  only  the  language  and 
name  of  the  Uncreate,  the  eternal  God.  In  us  all  is 
relative,  and  all  expressions  must  be  understood  in  rela- 
tive terms  only. 

II.   TAere  is  next  the  supposed  self,  the  self  of  which  The  supposed 

Self. 

also  there  is  only  one,  the  first  of  the  fictitious  series  and 
the  self  that  I  believe  myself  to  be,  and  is  perhaps  better 
described  as  a  distorted  and  false  self  The  amount  of 
its  difference  from  the  real  article  is  the  expression  of  my 
ignorance,  and  my  self-deception.  This  self  is  discerned 
by  me  mainly  from  a  consideration  of  my  motives,  my 
thoughts,  words  and  deeds.  Its  conception,  however,  is 
incomplete  even  to  myself  without  some  addition  of 
bodily  appearance. 

**  The  self  who  knows  and  discerns  itself,  consists 
merely  of  passing  states  of  self-consciousness  as  far  as 
psychology  is  concerned,  though  both  metaphysics  and 
theology  require  a  soul  besides  "  (James). 

Introspection  is  a  gazing  into  a  mental  mirror,  and  introspection 

<  •         1  It  1  1         -n  good  and  bad 

by  contmual  use  may  be  made  to  reveal  much.  Ruskin 
tells  us  always  to  have  two  mirrors  on  our  toilet  tables, 
and  see  that  with  proper  care  both  body  and  mind  are 
dressed  before  them  daily.  A  looking-glass  and  a  Bible 
perhaps  best  represent  the  mirrors,  but  both  require  the 
faculty  of  active  inspection  and  observation  to  be  of  use 


i8  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

in  "  dressing "  ;  and  both  prove  injurious  if  used  to 
excess.  Dr.  S.  Bryant  says,  "though  self-consciousness 
may  by  close  reflection  be  made  to  embrace  the  intel- 
lectual self,  it  does  not  do  so  naturally,  except  in  persons 
specially  marked  by  the  introspective  instinct "} 

The  principal  objection  to  all  introspection  is  that 
it  may  induce  a  morbid  habit  of  thought.  Good  as  self- 
examination  may  be  when  conducted  at  intervals,  with 
a  definite  view  to  improvement,  nothing  is  more  un- 
healthy than,  by  determined  effort,  to  bring  the  un- 
conscious into  consciousness,  and  to  be  always  occupied 
with  studying  our  own  characters.  The  unconscious, 
like  the  night,  is  intended  to  be  in  obscurity,  and  as 
a  rule  is  better  left  so.  There  is  an  introspection  that  is 
most  pernicious.  It  is  common  in  melancholy  tempera- 
ments and  sentimental  characters,  and  is  fostered  by 
certain  forms  of  religious  training  and  by  introspective 
fiction.  But  there  is  an  introspection  (as  we  have  seen) 
that  is  most  helpful.  In  this  the  searchlight  is  turned 
upon  the  unconscious  that  the  actual  attainment  may  be 
compared  with  the  moral  ideal,  so  that  the  man  may  be 
guided  to  fresh  progress. 

One  thing  is  certain,  it  is  infinitely  more  needful 
for  us  to  be  conscious  of  our  vices  than  of  our  virtues ; 
the  former  should  be  unmercifully  bared,  while  the  latter 
grow  best  in  the  shade. 

*  Dr.  S.  Bryant,  Mind,  1897,  p.  89i 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  CHARACTER 
The  known  self  has  been  thus  tabulated  : — 


19 


The  Self  I 

know. 


Pbrsonally. 

SOCIALLT. 

Spiritually. 

Self  known 
by 

Bodily  Appear- 
ance and  Mental 
Instincts. 

Desire  to  Please, 
Love,  Hate,  etc. 

Intellectual,  Moral 

and  Religious 

Aspirations. 

Self  esteemed 

according  to 

our 

Pride  or  Modesty. 

Vanity  or  Social 

Pride. 

Humility  or 

Modesty. 

Sense  of  Moral, 

Mental  or  Religious 

Superiority  or 

Inferiority. 

As  a  rule  we  can  only  survey  ourselves  subjectively, 
though  we  are  aided  by  considering  such  external 
manifestations  as  words  and  deeds,  and  even  our  faces 
in  a  glass.  To  see  ourselves  objectively,  />.,  without 
knowing  we  are  looking  at  ourselves,  is  rare,  and  is  as 
startling  as  when  a  dog  perceives  its  image  for  the  first 
time  in  a  mirror. 

It  was  my  lot  a  few  years  ago  to  sit  talking  one  An  external 

.  View  of  *^' 

mommg  with  some  ladies  in  an  hotel  near  a  table  in 
a  drawing-room  with  many  mirrors.  I  soon  noticed 
another  group  of  persons  at  some  distance  round  another 
table.  Being  short-sighted,  1  could  not  tell  what  they 
were  doing,  but  they  had  some  appearance  of  playing 
cards.  I  thought  this  rather  dissipated  so  early  in  the  day, 
and  with  insular  ignorance  put  them  down  as  probably 
Americans.  I  did  not  think  much  of  the  man  I  saw. 
Certain  points  in  his  face  and  expression  did  not  please 
me.  I  hardly  thought  his  personal  appearance  was  up 
to  the  mark,  and  noticed  several  other  things  (which  for 
obvious  reasons  shall  be  nameless)  to  his  detriment     He 


ao  SPRINGS  OP  CHARACTER 

appeared  to  be  looking  our  way,  and,  as  far  as  I  could 
judge,  listening  to  us,  which  seemed  very  rude.  My 
suggestion  to  my  friends,  however,  not  to  speak  so  loud, 
for  "  those  people  over  there  would  be  sure  to  hear  us," 
was  met  by  shouts  of  laughter ;  as  they  explained,  the 
illusion  was  caused  by  a  mirror.  The  shock,  however, 
of  thus  seeing  oneself  objectively,  has  not  yet  passed 
away ;  and  I  am  sure  we  should  all  know  more  about 
ourselves  could  we  thus  have  this  "giftie"  so  ardently 
desired  by  Burns.  Not  that  this  would  show  our  true 
selves,  but  still  we  should  get  a  better  idea  at  any  rate 
of  our  outward  expression  and  appearance. 

No  one  absolutely  surveys  himself  in  a  physical 
or  mental  mirror  with  an  impartial  eye,  as  long  as 
he  knows  it  is  himself  he  is  looking  at  He  uncon- 
sciously extenuates  the  defects  and  magnifies  the 
excellencies,  and  likes  to  think  well  of  himself. 
The  Amount  The  amount    we   can    discover  of  our   real   selves 

known  depends 

on  the  Light  depends  largely  on  the  search-light  used.  Ordinary 
self-consciousness  is  the  most  feeble.  Then  comes 
active  introspection — this  again  may  be  greatly  aided  by 
light  from  other  minds,  telling  us  what  to  look  for ;  also 
by  others  telling  us  what  they  see  in  us,  and  showing  us 
our  own  qualities  as  displayed  in  others.  Seeing  them 
thus  objectively  is  a  great  help.  The  Spirit  of  God, 
however,  and  the  Word  of  God,  rightly  used,  are,  as  we 
shall  see  when  we  consider  character  and  Christianity, 
the  most  effective  lights  of  all.  The  description  of  the 
Word  of  God  as  "  quick  and  powerful  .  .  .  and  piercing 
even  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  soul  and  spirit,  of  the 


THE  PERSONALITY  OP  CHARACTER  n 

joints  and  marrow  (i>.,  the  most  hidden  structures),  and 
as  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart," 
represents  strikingly  the  action  of  these  moral  Rontgen 
Rays.  The  power  of  these  latter,  if  described  a  few  years 
ago,  would  have  appeared  a  wild  fable,  though  now  a 
scientific  fact ;  and  these  spiritual  rays,  though  known  in 
power  to  many,  are  still  fabulous  to  others. 

III.  Tkere  ts  the  artificial  selfy  or  the  second  fictitious  The  Self  i  pic^ 

.    sent  to  others. 

self,  which  is  the  self  /  wish  others  to  think  me,  and  this 
is  no  longer  single,  but  multiple — some  indeed  have  as 
many  selves  in  constant  use  as  they  have  suits  of  clothes. 

These  selves  are  put  on  and  off,  sometimes  uncon- 
sciously and  sometimes  consciously ;  and  sometimes  the 
wrong  self  is  worn  at  the  wrong  time,  with  as  much 
incongruity  as  a  shooting  suit  at  a  dinner  party. 

Akin  to   this  fictitious  self  is  the  self  that  /  />^/«^TheSeifi  think 

others  see. 

others  see  me  to  be.  They  may  really  think  I  am  a  fool, 
but  I  think  they  think  me  wise.  It  is  obvious  this  self 
is  multiple,  and,  moreover,  corresponds  mainly  with  the 
artificial  self  I  have  presented  to  them,  and  by  which 
I  believe  their  opinion  to  be  formed.  It  may  not,  of 
course,  be  formed  by  it  at  all ;  their  insight  may  have 
discerned  much  of  the  real  ego  I  have  not  consciously 
exhibited.  We  need  not,  therefore,  dwell  on  this  self 
further,  as  to  all  intents  and  purposes  it  is  described  in 
the  artificial  self:  the  former  being  really  the  impression 
and  the  latter  the  picture. 

These  artificial  selves  or  characters  are  seldom  com- 
plete all  round.  They  are  like  the  allegorical  figures 
Ruskin  speaks  of  in  the  roof  of  a  cathedral,  which  looked 


aa  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

very  well  from  the  pavement ;  but  which,  when  he  got  a 
ladder  and  went  up,  he  perceived  were  quite  unfinished, 
and  never  intended  for  close  inspection.  We  are  not 
always  prepared  for  our  friends  to  walk  all  round  us. 

People  of  strong  individuality  and  self-conceit,  as 
well  as  those  of  innate  honesty,  are  seldom  conscious  of 
the  putting  on  or  off  of  this  public  self.  Nevertheless, 
it  will  be  seen  that  unconsciously  the  self  is  made  to 
harmonise,  to  some  extent  at  least,  with  its  environment ; 
the  self,  for  instance,  that  is  exhibited  to  our  superiors  is 
seldom  exactly  the  same  as  that  shown  to  our  inferiors. 
We  may  imagine  it  is,  but  it  is  not. 

Of  another    character    altogether    from    this    slight 
change  of  self-presentment,   unconsciously   adopted,   is 
that  which  is  put  on  consciously  for  a  distinct  purpose. 
This  Self  varies       While  Spending  four  successive  weeks  in  a  theological 

with  my  Sur-  ^r  ^^    i         •  .,.  ^    . 

roundings.  College,  on  a  golf  hnks,  m  a  military  camp,  and  in  a 
city  office,  there  are  but  few  who  would  exhibit,  or 
even  try  to  exhibit,  the  same  self.  It  is  not  only  that 
some  special  characteristic  would  be  emphasised  in  har- 
mony with  the  special  occasion,  but  the  whole  self 
exhibited  would  be  consciously,  as  well  as  unconsciously, 
changed  each  week  ;  the  very  tone  of  voice,  the  very 
attitude  of  body,  to  some  extent  the  whole  outlook  on 
life,  the  thoughts,  as  well  as  the  words  and  deeds,  being 
different.  We  do  not  say  this  by  way  of  blame,  though 
often  the  more  inferior  the  nature  the  better  is  it  marked. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  changes  are  often  signs  of  a 
sensitive  and  sympathetic  character  that  keenly  feels 
discrepancies   between   the   self  and   its   surroundings  ; 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  CHARACTER  23 

and  thus  ever  tries  to  bring  the  former  into  harmony 
with  the  environment.  Where  the  change  is  conscious 
it  is  nearly  always  effected  to  gain  the  esteem  or 
goodwill  of  others  ;  and  only  in  essentially  contrary 
natures  is  it  put  on  for  the  opposite  purpose. 

Different  from  this,  again,  is  the  public  character  The  fraudulent 
that  is  deliberately  and  consciously  fraudulent.  To 
colour  your  likeness  (or  what  you  suppose  to  be  it)  in 
different  tints  to  suit  different  tastes  is  one  matter  ;  to 
substitute  a  false  one  is  another.  Our  characters  should 
be  always  up  to  the  public  sample ;  that  is,  thoiirrh  in 
religious  company  I  may  emphasise  the  religious  side, 
I  should  never  pretend  to  more  religion  than  I  have 
got.  Our  condition  and  character  may,  and  should, 
continually  change  and  improve,  but  the  public  sample 
at  any  time  should  never  absolutely  misrepresent,  though 
it  often  accentuates,  its  qualities. 

Our  public  self  always  best  expresses  our  real  self  Conscious  and 

.  uncons 

when  we  are  least  conscious  of  it.  When  we  pose  con-  Selves. 
sciously  we  represent  what  we  think  we  are.  When  we 
act  unconsciously  we  exhibit  what  we  are.  Now,  if  the 
real  or  unconscious  self  is  superior  to  the  supposed  or 
conscious  self,  we  are  at  our  best  when  unconscious  of 
our  actions.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  our  unconscious  self 
is  at  a  lower  level  than  our  conscious  self  we  are  at 
our  worst.  Every  one  must  know  these  two  types  of 
character.  The  man  who  is  always  most  refined  and 
at  his  ease  when  he  forgets  himself,  and  only  awkward 
when  conscious  ;  and  the  man  who  behaves  well  as  long 
as  he  is  on  his  guard,  but  when  he  forgets  himself  shows 


unconscious 


24  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

he  is  at  heart  a  boor :  in  the  former  it  is  the  uncon- 
scious mind  that  is  the  better  educated  ;  in  the  latter 
the  conscious. 

We  may  say,  then,  that  the  public  self  always  is 
unconsciously  varied  to  some  extent  to  suit  the  com- 
pany or  pursuit ;  that  it  is  in  addition  often  further 
modified  consciously  and  purposively  for  definite  ob- 
jects ;  and  furthermore  that  only  by  the  unprincipled 
are  qualities  put  on  that  are  not  possessed  at  all,  or 
are,  at  any  rate,  far  in  excess  of  the  reality. 

Perhaps  we  should  here  add  one  word  of  qualifica- 
tion, as  in  any  study  of  character  all  absolute  statements 
must  be  more  or  less  incorrect,  so  complex  is  the  problem 
to  be  considered. 

While,  therefore,  the  true  motto  of  every  upright  man 
is  "To  be, and  not  to  seem,"  it  is  also  true  that  our  out- 
ward or  public  self  is  in  many  better  than  what  we  are 
(in  some,  of  course,  it  is  worse),  because  it  represents  our 
ideal  of  what  we  would  be  rather  than  what  we  are  at 
the  time.  This  is  good,  and  is  a  constant  cause  of 
improvement  by  bringing  our  character  up  to  our 
conduct  rather  than  levelling  our  conduct  down  to  our 
character.  It  will  be  seen  that  only  if  carried  to  excess 
such  better  conduct  might  amount  to  deceit  and  fraud. 
Good  or  evil  seldom  characterise  us  absolutely,  but 
in  relative  proportions ;  and  one  can  see  from  the 
foregoing  that  that  person  may  be  absolutely  nobler 
and  more  progressive  whose  public  self  is  slightly  in 
advance  of  the  private,  than  where  the  two  entirely 
correspond. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  CHARACTER  25 

IV.  Lastly  there  is  the  self  others  see^  which  is  the  third  The  Self  as 

seen  by  others. 

fictitious  self.  The  judgment  of  others  on  us  is  largely 
founded  upon  our  outward  appearance,  including  not  only 
our  bodies  but  our  dress,  coupled  with  such  indications  of 
our  spirits  as  they  can  read  in  our  acts  and  words,  or 
perhaps,  as  we  say,  "  between  the  lines  ". 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  the  various  selves  de- 
scribed, beginning  with  what  is  seen  by  God,  and  end- 
ing with  ourselves  as  seen  by  others,  the  judgment  is 
increasingly  dependent  upon  outward  manifestations, 
including  at  last  even  our  clothes,  and  possibly  our 
houses  and  our  productions.  Some  indeed  may  even 
judge  us  by  our  children  ;  or,  if  pastors,  by  our  flock  ;  or, 
if  doctors,  by  the  testimony  of  our  patients.  The  esti- 
mate of  a  man's  character  is  drawn  from  a  wide  field,  the 
greater  part  of  which  is  external  to  himself.  All  beneath 
our  influence  have  a  voice  as  to  our  character ;  and  with 
sovereigns  this  includes  a  whole  kingdom. 

We  may  notice  this  progressively  external  judgment  Self  judged  in- 

■  creasingly  by 

m  many  things.  Take  a  watch  for  instance.  A  friend  Externals, 
looking  on  the  case  and  face  says  :  "  A  very  nice  watch  ". 
I,  knowing  its  qualities  and  properties,  say  :  "  Yes !  a 
good  timekeeper".  The  maker,  knowing  the  works, 
quality  of  mainspring,  number  of  jewels,  says  :  "  It  is  an 
English  lever  of  the  best  make,  jewelled  in  six  holes." 
Here  are  the  three  progressive  judgments  from  without 
in. 

A  judgment  of  the  character  of  another,  founded 
upon  a  close  study  of  its  display  in  his  life,  and  in  all 
over  which  he  has  influence,  from  his  clothes   to   his 


26  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

friends  and  pursuits,  is  generally  fairly  correct  in  its 
main  outlines. 

A  man,  roughly  speaking,  as  a  rule  passes  for  what 
he  is  worth  ;  only  the  greater  his  value,  the  less  likely 
he  is  to  do  so.  The  nearer  the  average,  the  more  likely ; 
because  in  the  former  case  the  minority,  and  in  the  latter 
the  majority,  of  men  can  understand  him. 

Every  day  the  man  lives  before  us  is  in  a  sense  a 
judgment  day  ;  and  in  view  of  the  light  he  unconsciously 
sheds  on  his  own  character,  all  conscious  attempts  at 
concealment  or  exaggeration  avail  nothing.  Men  may 
not  know  Aow  they  know,  but  they  do  know ;  and  a  deep- 
seated  distrust  of  a  man  is  often  well-founded.  Some 
indeed,  especially  women,  have  special  instincts  as  to 
character.  I  know  one,  who,  riding  for  the  first  time  in 
a  carriage  with  a  man  of  high  reputation  and  ostensibly 
of  Christian  character,  came  home  in  great  agitation 
declaring  he  was  a  wicked  man.  Nothing  had  tran- 
spired. It  was  her  instinct  alone  that  produced  this 
conviction,  for  which  she  was  severely  blamed,  and 
which  was  only  justified  by  what  was  brought  to  light 
years  after. 

As  a  rule,  people  have  not  this  gift,  and,  like  all  in- 
stincts, it  is  not  a  very  safe  one  to  rely  on.  We  may 
seeing  the  hands  keeping  perfect  time  on  the  face  of  a 
watch,  safely  deduce  that  there  must  be  a  good  main- 
spring within  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  where  a  bad  char- 
acter is  sought  to  be  concealed,  the  limits  of  dissimulation 
imposed  by  the  face,  the  body,  the  unconscious  actions 
and  words,  often  prevent  it  from  being  successful. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  CHARACTER  27 

However  much  we  may  think  we  "  see  "  others,  we 
should  be  very  slow  in  judging  them  ;  particularly  if  we 
only  know  them  slightly.  The  deeper  the  character,  the 
less  likely  is  it  to  come  to  the  surface  in  a  short  time. 
Deep  characters  are  thus  necessarily  more  often  ill  judged 
than  shallow  ones. 

If  our  character  is  growing  and  we  are  progressing,  Growing  and 

.  r        ^  Stationary 

the  estimate   of  others   is   generally  rather   too   high  ;  Characters, 
inasmuch  as  in  such  cases  our  conduct,  based  on  our 
ideal,  is  generally  in  advance  of  our  actual  character.     If 
our  character  is  stationary,  the  estimate  is  more  likely  to 
be  true. 

If  our  character  is  deteriorating,  the  estimate  is  again 
generally  too  high,  for  we  cling  to  good  conduct  even 
after  good  principles  have  been  abandoned.  Degrada- 
tion of  character  is  seldom  due  to  the  pursuit  of  an  ideal, 
but  rather  to  the  loss  of  one. 

Frequently  our  friends  lay  hold  of  a  salient  point 
which  is  the  leading,  or  at  any  rate  the  most  conspicuous 
feature  in  our  character,  and  see  all  the  rest  in  its  light. 
A  picture  based  on  such  a  view  (generally  exaggerated) 
is  called  a  caricature.  Portraiture  is  a  balanced  estimate 
of  the  man  as  a  whole. 

When  an  honest  man  finds  the  opinion  of  others  as 
to  his  character  is  what  he  believes  to  be  in  advance  ot 
the  truth,  it  may  serve  as  an  incentive  to  become  equal 
to  his  reputation  ;  and  to  make,  perhaps,  the  solitary  act, 
or  the  temporary  impulse  that  produced  it,  and  on  which 
that  reputation  is  founded,  an  integral  and  permanent 
feature  of  his  character.     The  opinion  of  others  is  indeed 


lusion. 


28  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

one  of  the  agents  that  materially  assist  in  the  growth  of 
character. 
he  Con-  The  conclusion  of  the  matter,  therefore,  is  that  my 

character  is  myself,  but  cannot  be  known  by  myself; 
that  it  is  probably  best  discerned  by  one  who  has  had 
constant  opportunity  of  knowing  my  thoughts,  and  words, 
and  deeds,  and  my  manner  of  life  for  some  years  ;  that 
the  simpler  and  shallower  the  character  the  more  likely 
is  such  an  estimate  to  be  correct ;  that  in  some  respects 
I  may  be  able  to  discern  in  myself  by  introspection 
features  that  others  never  see  ;  but  that,  as  a  whole,  my 
estimate  of  myself  is  not  likely  to  be  so  true  as  that 
formed  by  a  friend  who  has  had  the  opportunities  we  have 
described.  That  God  alone  knows  all  that  I  am,  and  that 
He  who  perfectly  knows  my  character  can  and  will,  on 
certain  conditions,  aid  me  to  mould  it  on  perfect  lines, 
not  with  the  idea  of  its  ever  attaining  perfection  here — 
but  hereafter. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CHARACTER  AND  THE  BODY. 
The  body  acts  on  the  mind  and  the  mind  acts  upon  the  interaction 

'  of  Mind  and 

body,  and  in  certain  cases  both  appear  to  act  together  ;  Body, 
so  that  we  cannot  say  which  is  cause  and  which  effect, 
nor  even  if  there  be  sequence,  or  what  the  sequence  is. 

On  the  a  priori  conclusion  that  spirit  and  matter  can 
have  no  connection  with  each  other  for  want  of  a  common 
term  we  need  not  waste  time  ;  for  there  is  overwhelming 
positive  proof  that  the  one  does  affect  the  other.  "  The 
spirit  can  take  the  body,  and  by  conscious  and  un- 
conscious activities  mould  it  for  a  dwelling-place  and 
instrument  for  its  uses."  ^  Of  the  way  in  which  this  is 
effected,  and  a  nerve  impression  becomes  a  mental 
percept,  or  a  mental  concept  becomes  a  nerve  impression, 
we  know  absolutely  nothing  ;  neither  can  our  minds 
apparently  as  yet  furnish  an  intelligible  hypothesis. 
In  the  brain  the  effect  of  the  mind  action  is  as  yet  too 
obscure  to  be  discussed.  That  there  are  changes  in- 
cessantly produced  and  that  the  brain  of  a  man  differs 
from  a  child's  we  know,  but  the  relation  of  qualities  of 
mind  with  characters  of  brain  is  profoundly  obscure ; 

*  Noah  Porter,  Human  Intellect,  p.  39. 

(29) 


30  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

perhaps  the  more  so  through  the  failure  of  the  artificial 
system  suggested  by  phrenology.  As  far  as  we  know 
we  have  no  organs  in  the  brain  connected  with  any 
special  qualities.  Wundt  says,  "  Actual  neurology  has 
as  much  connection  with  the  assumption  of  the  brain's 
mission  of  moral  intuition,  as  astronomy  and  geography 
with  Jules  Verne's  tales  ". 
Character  im-         Turning,  however,  to   the    body  generally,  we  see 

pressed  on  the 

Body  plainly  not  only  that  the  mind  does  re-act  upon  it,  but 

that  we  can,  in  a  rough  way,  see  there  the  lines  of  character 
physically  impressed.  Emerson  says:  "The  human  body 
is  wonderfully  expressive.  If  it  were  made  of  glass,  and 
the  thoughts  were  written  on  steel  tablets  within,  it  could 
not  publish  more  truly  their  meaning  than  now.  Wise 
men  can  hear  all  our  past  history  proclaimed  in  our 
looks,  gait,  and  behaviour,  for  the  tell-tale  body  is  all 
tongue." 

The  body  is  altered  by  the  character  entirely  through 
the  action  of  the  unconscious  mind.  To  it  we  owe  the 
intelligent  and  varied  permanent  expressions  of  the  face, 
the  only  characteristic  forms  being  those  that  are  uncon- 
scious ;  so  readily  distinguished  from  the  conscious  imita- 
tions put  on  artificially  and  temporarily  by  the  force  of 
the  will.  To  it  we  owe  the  carriage  of  the  body,  so 
that  you  can  judge  of  a  man's  character  by  his  gait,  his 
postures,  his  physical  manner  and  habits ;  the  uncon- 
scious mind  in  its  nobility  or  degradation  being  indelibly 
stamped  not  only  on  the  face  but  upon  the  form. 

He  is  a  dull  scholar  who  cannot  read  a  man  even  from 
a  back  view. 


CHARACTER  AND  THE  BODY  31 

Round  the  statue  of  the  Prince  Consort  in  Edinburgh 
stand  representative  groups  paying  homage  to  him.  If 
you  get  a  back  view  of  any  of  these  you  see  mind  stamped 
not  even  on  flesh,  but  on  stone,  and  can  tell  at  once  the 
sailor  or  soldier,  peasant,  scholar,  or  workman,  and  this 
not  alone  by  the  dress. 

Look  at  the  body  and  face  of  a  man  whose  mind  is  By  the  uncon 

scious  Mind. 

gone.  Look  at  the  slouching,  cringing  body  of  a  man 
who  has  lost  his  self-respect.  Look  at  the  body  of  a 
thief,  a  sot,  or  a  miser.  Compare  the  faces  and  expres- 
sions of  a  beggar,  a  philanthropist,  a  policeman,  a  scholar, 
a  sailor,  a  lawyer,  a  doctor,  a  shopwalker,  a  sandwich- 
man,  a  farmer,  a  manufacturer,  a  nurse,  a  lady,  a  servant, 
a  barmaid,  a  nun,  an  actress,  an  art  student,  and  answer 
to  yourself  two  questions  :  First,  are  these  different 
expressions  of  body  and  face  due  essentially  to  physical 
or  psychical  causes  ?  And  secondly,  are  they  consciously 
or  unconsciously  produced  ?  The  answers  will  leave  no 
doubt  that  the  mind  can  unconsciously  display  psychical 
conceptions  by  physical  media. 

With  regard  to  the  face,  the  fact  that  the  effects  of  a  Character  in 
man  s  occupation  are  stamped  upon  the  visage  is  found 
written  in  a  papyrus  of  the  date  of  B.C.  2000. 

The  five  most  common  vices  that  are  shown  upon  the 
face  are  pride,  sensuality,  fear,  cruelty,  and  bad  temper. 

The  mental  impress  on  the  face  is  perhaps  least  seen 
in  the  eyes  themselves,  and  most  in  the  lines  around  the 
nose  and  mouth. 

It  is  said  that  a  man  can  successfully  lie  with  his 
eyes,  but  not  with  his  mouth.     The  face  is  such  an  index 


32  SPRINGS   OF  CHARACTER 

of  character  that  the  very  growth  of  the  latter  can  be 
traced  upon  the  former,  and  most  of  the  successive  lines 
that  carve  the  furrowed  face  of  age  out  of  the  smooth 
outline  of  childhood  are  engraved  directly  or  indirectly 
by  mind.  There  is  no  beautifier  of  the  face  like  a  beau- 
tiful spirit.  The  want  of  mind  lowers  all  the  powers  of 
the  body  ;  but  so  does  an  evil  and  debased  mind,  which 
is  still  more  wonderful. 

Dr.  Thompson,  surgeon  to  H.M.  Prisons  in  Scotland, 
says,  after  observation  for  eighteen  years :  "  I  have  never 
seen  such  an  accumulation  of  morbid  appearances  as 
here.  Scarcely  any  die  of  any  one  disease,  for  almost 
every  organ  of  the  body  is  more  or  less  diseased  or 
degenerated  ". 

On  the  other  hand,  a  good  character  is  good  for 
health,  and  is  associated  with  longevity.  Intellectual 
occupation  is  frequently  a  factor  in  long  life.  When 
the  average  duration  of  life  is  forty,  poets  average  fifty- 
seven  and  clergymen  sixty-five.  Of  course,  there  are 
other  factors  as  well. 

It  is  very  curious  how  we  place  our  body  in  attitudes 
expressive  of  mental  states.  If  we  try  to  see  a  thing 
with  our  mind  we  often  put  an  intense  and  strained 
expression  into  our  eyes.  If  we  are  in  a  state  of  delight 
our  eyes  are  fixed  in  ecstasy.  Great  grief  paralyses 
the  body.  In  staying  with  friends  a  person  with  a  good 
ear  and  imitative  character  soon  adopts  unconsciously 
the  voice  and  mannerisms  of  his  host ;  and  not  only  so, 
but  I  have  an  authentic  case  where  the  handwriting 
unconsciously  always  resembled  that  of  the  host  for  the 


CHARACTER  AND  THE  BODY  33 

time  being.  It  is  impossible  to  be  seized  with  a  vivid 
idea  without  the  whole  body  being  placed  in  harmony 
with  it. 

On  the  other  hand  the  body  affects  the  character. 

"  The  soul,*'  says  Theophrastus,  "  pays  a  dear  rent 
for  living  in  the  body."  Our  characters  are  affected 
and  modified  by  digestion,  circulation,  general  health, 
and  at  certain  periods  of  life.  The  effects  of  a  feeble 
or  crippled  body  on  character  are  strongly  marked  ;  and 
of  this  Lord  Byron  is  a  well-known  example.  Rousseau 
says^  the  weaker  the  body  is  the  more  it  commands. 
It  commands  in  the  hour  when  we  cannot  face  our 
work,  or  when  it  makes  us,  in  spite  of  our  will,  morbid, 
irritable  and  wrong-headed  in  our  estimation  of  men 
and  things.  Also,  it  is  the  strong  body  that  obeys. 
Hence  the  force  of  the  ethical  argument  for  physical 
education.  Bodily  health  is  undoubtedly  a  condition 
of  the  soundness  of  practical  judgment. 

If  a  child  be  bound  hand  and  foot  and  brought  up 
without  any  exercise,  it  is  said  that  it  will  grow  up  an 
idiot.  If  a  limb  be  lost  early  in  life,  a  corresponding 
part  of  the  brain  remains  undeveloped.  No  part  of  the 
body  is  moved  without  moving  the  brain.  "  Walking 
on  the  tight  rope,"  says  Sir  B.  W.  Richardson,  "  is  as 
much  an  intellectual  exercise  as  conjugating  a  Greek 
verb." 

The  association  of  types  of  character  with  types  of  Correspond- 
body  has  been  studied,  as  we   shall   see   later  on,  by  Lnd  physical 

Types. 

*  Quoted  in  The  Making  of  Character,  M'Cunn,  p.  5C 
3 


34  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Furneaux  Jordan,  a  well-known  hospital  surgeon.  He 
was  first  attracted  to  the  study  by  observing  that  the 
women  in  his  accident  ward,  in  a  series  of  years,  who 
were  suffering  from  injuries  inflicted  by  their  husbands, 
conformed  to  a  well-marked  general  physical  type  which 
he  thus  describes  : — 

"  The  skin  is  pink  and  white ;  hair  and  eyebrows 
scanty;  fairly  stout;  markedly  x^^//- shaped  round 
backs,  convex  transversely  and  longitudinally ;  head  and 
shoulders  inclined  forward  ;  tongues  sharp." 

This  type  he  classed  as  the  non-passionate  active 
temperament,  and  these  in  both  men  and  women  he 
further  described  as  follows  : — 

Clear  complexion  ;  nails  soft  and  weak  ;  hair  growth 
poor ;  eyebrows  scanty ;  head  projects  forwards  (Napo- 
leon) ;  round  back ;  body  more  or  less  markedly  fat. 

The  other  type  of  the  passionate  inactive  tempera^ 
ment  have  flat  backs,  the  head  held  up  and  drawn  back, 
skin  dark  or  pigmented,  lean  body,  abundant  hair  and 
good  eyebrows  ;  and  such  women  do  not  apparently 
suffer  injuries  from  their  husbands. 
sheii-backf,  One  "  psychological  '*  (?)  novel,  at  least,  has  been 

Scanty  Hair  .  ,  t        /.     i  i  .,.,., 

and  Crime,  written  on  the  strength  of  the  above,  m  which  it  is 
foretold  that  a  woman  will  be  murdered  by  her  husband 
because  she  has  scanty  hair  and  a  round  back  !  But 
until  natural  types  of  character  are  more  clearly  defined 
than  at  present,  it  is  obviously  impossible  accurately  to 
describe  types  of  body  to  correspond. 

We  may  rest,  however,  on  the  undoubted  facts  that 
tiie  body  is  closely  associated  with  mind  and  character ; 


CHARACTER  AND   THE   BODY  35 

that  the  character  tends  to  be  impressed  on  the  v/hole 
body,  more  particularly  on  the  face ;  that  the  size  and 
general  shape  of  the  head  has  some  slight  connection 
with  that  of  the  mind  ;  and  that  the  nervous  structure 
of  the  brain  is  always  modified  by  use.  With  these 
conclusions  we  must  at  present  be  content. 

But  character  is  not  only  stamped  upon  such  respon- 
sive materials  as  flesh  and  blood,  but  upon  inanimate 
objects,  as  dress,  furniture,  etc. 

Dress,  indeed,  is  very  closely  connected  with  char- Dress  and 
acter.  Who  are  these  who  are  arrayed  in  white  robes  ? 
— the  purity  of  the  dress  is  symbolical  of  that  of  the 
character.  What  an  intense  instinctive  judgment  we 
form  of  a  person's  (particularly  a  woman's)  character 
from  her  dress  !  It  is  often  so  intense  that  subsequent 
knowledge  modifies  it  with  diflficulty,  and  never  wholly 
obliterates  it,  as  in  other  surroundings,  which  we  will 
consider  in  Chapter  VI.  In  early  life  dress  helps  to 
form  the  character,  in  later  life  it  expresses  it. 

Furniture,  and  other  immediate  environments,  as  we 
shall  see,  act  in  this  double  way;  and  a  person's  bed- 
room indicates  many  of  the  mental  qualities  of  its 
occupant. 

Of  course  this  varies,  some  characters  stamping 
themselves  physically  on  their  intimate  surroundings 
much  more  deeply  than  others. 

Whether,  however,  in  any  particular  case  it  is  the 
physical  that  stamps  the  mental,  or  the  mental  the 
physical,  the  science  of  character  does  not  tell  us,  but 
the  action  in  either  case  is  wholly  unconscious. 


)S  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

What  is  The  science   of  character   itself  is  called  ethology, 

°  °^  from  ^^09,  character,  and  is  to  character  what  a  system  of 
ethics  is  to  the  qualities  that  compose  it.  The  first 
attempt  to  embody  this  science  in  a  system  on  a  material 
basis  was  called  phrenology.  With  it  was  associated, 
more  or  less  loosely,  physiognomy.  When  the  former 
of  these  got  somewhat  discredited,  other  attempts  were 
made  of  a  half-hearted  nature,  and  of  an  empirical  kind, 
to  establish  some  science  of  character.  One,  for  instance, 
was  based  upon  temperaments,  and  others  on  even  more 
visionary  and  arbitrary  bases. 

But  we  should  beware,  however  absurd  to  us  a  science 
based  on  cranial  protuberances  or  even  "  temperaments  " 
may  seem,  of  attempting  to  cast  ridicule  upon  the 
labours  of  scientific  men,  whose  systems  were  quite 
abreast  of  the  knowledge  of  their  day. 

The  phrenology  of  Gall  and  Spurzeim,  indeed,  how- 
ever hopeless  to  us  its  details  may  appear,  was,  after  all, 
the  only  serious  and  exhaustive  attempt  that  has  been 
made  to  form  a  science  of  character,  and  it  was  of  some 
undoubted  value,  inasmuch  as  it  was  based  upon  the 
connection,  now  known  to  be  so  close,  of  mind  and 
brain.  The  germ  of  truth  in  phrenology  was  the  idea 
that  every  psychical  impulse  is  accompanied  by  some 
physical  change ;  that  a  "psychosis"  involves  a  "neurosis" 
Far  from  being  discredited,  the  advance  of  cerebral  physi- 
ology has  demonstrated  this  in  so  many  instances  that  it 
is  now  doubted  by  few.  Character  is  thus  stamped  upon 
the  body,  though  not  in  the  charmingly  simple  manner 
shown  by  printed  lables  on  phrenological  heads. 


CHARACTER  AND   THE  BODY  37 

How  is  it  then  we  have  not  advanced   further   in  Difficulties 

111-1  11  ,       of  Ethology 

ethology,  that  it  yet  boasts  no  text-books  or  manuals  ? 
There  are  many  reasons,  for  the  subject  is  surrounded 
with  difficulties. 

Characters  are  probably  of  as  many  varieties  as  there 
are  people  in  the  world.  At  any  rate,  amongst  civilised 
nations  it  is  extremely  probable  there  are  no  two  persons 
exactly  alike  in  character.  Ethics,  indeed,  is  regarded 
as  a  fairly  well-established  science,  whatever  views  may 
be  held  as  to  the  best  system ;  but  it  consists  in  the 
generalising  of  abstracts,  the  individual  application  of 
which,  to  personalities,  is  a  very  different  matter,  and 
it  is  t/its  which  constitutes  character. 

We  kave  a  well-developed  science  of  the  population  of 
the  globe,  varied  as  it  is,  and  we  call  it  "  Ethnology " : 
why  then  should  we  not  have  its  sister,  without  the  "n"? 
Mankind  is  divided  into  types  and  races,  why  not  char- 
acters ?  In  spite  of  the  difficulty,  it  is  hard  to  say  why 
more  has  not  been  done.  As  we  have  shown,  a  vague 
attempt  has  been  made  to  class  characters  by  tempera- 
ments, but  with  very  little  more  success  than  by  the 
bumps  of  phrenology.  Perhaps  a  reason  given  in  an 
earlier  chapter  is,  after  all,  the  real  cause  why  we  still 
wait  for  a  true  science  of  character.  It  is  the  fact 
that  only  within  the  last  few  years  has  the  vast 
sphere  in  which  it  resides,  the  unconscious  mind,  been 
studied  with  any  care,  or  even  admitted  as  a  serious 
concept.  It  is  evident  that  this  region  must  be  better 
known  and  recognised,  and  the  real  nature  of  the 
operations  conducted  within   its   limits,  such   as  habit 


38  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

and  instinct,  better  understood  before  we  can  make 
much  advance. 

Further  Data  Any  light  on  the  changes  in  the  physical  brain,  on 
the  true  action  and  modification  of  the  neurons,  on  the 
crux  of  the  whole  question — the  link  between  mind  and 
matter — and  the  manner  in  which  the  former  affects  the 
latter,  would  also  be  of  the  greatest  help.  No  doubt,  if 
it  is  to  wait  for  all  this.  Ethology  will,  for  a  long  time,  be 
a  science  of  the  future ;  but  advances  are  now  so  rapid, 
that  perhaps  ere  long  enough  will  be  known  to  provide 
some  sort  of  a  true  rational  basis  for  the  formation  of 
a  science  of  character. 

Phrenology.  But  to  return  to  phrenology — which  is  one  of  the 

many  melancholy  instances  of  the  evil  of  generalising 
from  insufficient  data,  or  imperfectly  understood  pheno- 
mena— while  we  have  no  wish,  as  we  have  said,  to 
cast  ridicule  on  any  earnest  work,  perhaps  we  may  be 
permitted  to  give  the  following  typical  instance  of  the  way 
in  which  the  "  facts  "  of  phrenology  were  "  proved  "  : — 

Combe  says,^  "  In  a  child  with  a  part  of  the  skull 
removed  over  the  phrenological  site  of  self-esteem  and 
love  of  approbation,  I  felt  a  distinct  swelling  up  and 
pulsation  of  the  '  organ  *  of  self-esteem,  and  the  same 
movements,  but  in  a  less  degree,  in  that  of  love  of 
approbation.  When  I  began  to  talk  to  her  she  was  shy, 
but  as  she  got  at  her  ease,  the  movements  in  self-esteem 
decreased  and  those  of  love  of  approbation  increased.  .  ,  , 
This  was  repeated  and  the  same  results  followed.     At 

1  Quoted  by  A.  Bain,  On  The  Study  of  Character,  p.  loo.  This 
work  is  practically  a  study  of  phrenology  with  efforts  to  improve  it. 


CHARACTER  AND   THE  BODY  39 

questions  in  mental  arithmetic  the  movements  ceased. 
Then  we  praised  her,  and  the  movement  returned."  (!) 

In  phrenology  the  "  organs  "  were  arranged  under  the 
well-known  three  heads  of  emotion,  intellect  and  will. 
It  is  needless  to  give  the  list  tn  extenso.  The  emotions 
were  subdivided  into  those  that  end  in  feeling  and  those 
that  result  in  action.  The  former  were  termed  by 
Spurzeim  sentiments^  and  included  self-esteem,  hope, 
wonder,  wit,  etc. ;  while  the  latter  were  termed  pro- 
pensitieSy  such  as  combativeness,  destructiveness,  love  of 
life,  acquisitiveness,  etc. 

Bain  did  not  consider  this  distinction  clear,  but  made  improved 

,.-.,.  by  Bain. 

mstead  two  lists  of  sensations  and  emotions. 

The  sensations  were  muscular,  sexual,  organic  and 
special. 

The  emotions  were  wonder,  terror,  timidity  and 
courage,  the  tender  emotions,  egotism,  self-esteem,  self- 
love,  love  of  power,  irascibility,  love  of  humanity,  sym- 
pathy, and  fine  art  emotions. 

He  moreover  constructed  as  an  improvement  on 
phrenology  (which  undoubtedly  it  was)  a  list  of  the 
primitive  faculties  of  mind,  as  follows  : — 

Amativeness,  philoprogenitiveness,  concentration* 
adhesiveness,  combativeness,  destructiveness,  alimenta- 
tion, love  of  life,  secretiveness,  acquisitiveness,  con- 
struction. 

Sentiments. — Self-esteem,  love  of  approbation,  cau- 
tiousness, benevolence,  veneration,  firmness,  conscien- 
tiousness, hope,  wonder,  ideality,  wit,  imitation. 

Intellectual. — The  five  special  sensations,  individualityt 


40  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

form,  size,  weight,  colouring,  locality,  number,  order, 
eventuality,  time,  tune,  language,  comparison,  causality. 

These  lists,  bearing  as  they  do  such  a  stamp  of 
empiricism  in  the  very  coining  of  the  words,  might  be 
multiplied  ad  nauseam. 

No  doubt  each  of  us  could  make  a  list  of  qualities  we 
think  it  desirable  should  enter  into  the  composition  of 
a  good  character,  and  coin  more  or  less  hideous  names 
of  many  syllables  to  express  them  ;  but  no  such  attempts 
can  ever  form  the  foundation  of  a  true  science. 
Failure  to  Mill  long  strove  to  discover  the  science  of  character, 

establish 

Ethology.        but  failed,  and  confessed  it,  and  ended  by  declaring  that 
all  men  began  alike. 

The  attempt  to  found  characters  upon  temperaments, 
as  we  have  seen,  has  never  been  carried  very  far  with 
regard  to  their  classification  ;  though  temperament  is 
wrought  in  the  very  texture  of  our  life,  and  is  fortunately 
itself  susceptible  of  indefinite  modification. 

Leonard  Courtenay  says,^  with  what  reason  we  know 
not,  "  that  the  choleraic  temperament  is  strong  and  quick, 
the  melancholic  strong  and  slow,  the  sanguine  weak  and 
quick,  the  phlegmatic  weak  and  slow  ". 

Furneaux  Jordan  ^  makes  practically  four  classes,  two 
of  either  sex. 
Jordan's  Types       The  active  and  little  passionate  female  type  who  never 

of  Character. 

rests,  is  ever  occupied  with  little  things,  full  of  trials, 
always  cleaning,  fond  of  jumping  to  conclusions,  full  of 
small  interests,  given  to  change,  capable,  shallow  but 

1  L.  Courtenay,  National  Review ^  March,  1890,  p.  31, 
'  Furneaux  Jordan,  Character  in  Body  and  Parentage, 


CHARACTER  AND  THE  BODY  41 

clear,  very  sensitive  to  ridicule,  fond  of  judging  others, 
very  self-conscious  with  little  self-analysis,  who  never 
forgets  herself  for  her  duty,  and  whose  general  aim  is 
good. 

The  man  of  the  same  type  has  these  qualities  more 
accentuated ;  is  conservative,  moral,  self-reliant,  assertive, 
unhappy  in  repose,  and  as  a  husband  (alas!)  is  often 
a  failure. 

The  reflective  and  impassioned  woman  has  quiet 
manners,  is  hard  to  read,  not  restless  or  complaining, 
matures  slowly,  is  a  cruel  stepmother,  though  often  an 
affectionate  wife ;  loves  and  hates  too  much,  is  best  at 
home,  is  led  by  impulse  rather  than  by  thought,  fond  of 
animals,  tolerant  and  has  little  self-consciousness. 

The  si^nilar  type  of  m£in  is  reflective,  quiet,  praises 
often  and  never  scolds. 

Such  crude  distinctions  remind  us  more  of  a  seance 
in  palmistry  than  of  any  serious  scientific  work  ;  and  we 
should  not  quote  the  above,  were  it  not  for  a  curious 
connection  that  Dr.  Jordan  has  observed  between  the 
types  described,  and  certain  physical  peculiarities  of 
which  we  have  already  spoken. 

Character  has  also  been  discerned  (though  fortunately 
there  has  been  no  attempt  to  form  a  science  therefrom) 
by  palmistry,  by  investigating  the  spots  on  the  irides 
by  the  handwriting,  by  the  hair  and  nails,  by  the  teeth 
and  various  other  parts  of  the  body.  Physiognomy 
perhaps  remains  as  the  most  scientific  index  of  character, 
and  it  is,  as  we  have  seen,  upon  the  face  that  the  mind 
is  most  clearly  written  upon  the  body. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CHARACTER  AND  ETHICS. 
Ethics,  Morals  The  system  of  Ethics  is  perhaps  the  nearest  approach 

md  Character 

we  have  at  present  to  a  science  of  character,  without 
actually  being  this  in  any  sense  ;  but  as  it  is  allied  to  it, 
it  will  be  well  for  us  now  to  consider  the  relation  of 
ethics  to  character,  which  appears  to  be  somewhat  as 
follows : — 

Ethics  is  the  abstract  science  of  those  activities  of  the 
human  soul  (chiefly  social)  which  we  term  moral,  and 
the  professor  of  ethics  is  therefore  a  Scientist.  Morals 
is  the  applied  science  or  art  which  deals  with  the  same 
activities,  and  the  teacher  of  morals  is  an  Artist.  The 
character  is  the  product  of  the  art  of  morals,  embodied 
and  realised  in  a  living  human  personality. 

For  example,  in  painting  there  is  a  science  of  perspec- 
tive and  colours  which  the  scientist  investigates,  though 
he  may  have  no  idea  how  to  draw  or  paint. 

There  is  an  art  of  painting  which  the  painter  acquires, 

and  which  the  professor  of  painting  teaches.      Lastly 

there  is  the  picture  which  the  artist  paints. 

4        Ethics  is  thus  the  science  of  morals ;  and  the  difference 

between  this  and  character  is  that  between  the  abstract 

(42) 


CHARACTER  AND  ETHICS  43 

and  the  applied,  between  mechanics  and  an  engine, 
physiology  and  a  man. 

"  Ethics,"  says  Dr.  Martineau,  "  is  the  doctrine  of 
human  character."  The  term  doctrine  is  a  little  unfor- 
tunate. Doctrine  means  teaching.  We  speak  of  Plato's 
doctrine,  Ruskin's  doctrine,  etc.  It  is  the  exposition  of 
a  science  or  art  by  an  individual  teacher.  Doctrine, 
therefore,  changes  in  accordance  with  the  extent  of 
knowledge.  Science  is  a  better  word,  for  science  proper 
will  not  change,  being  the  systematised  knowledge  of 
eternal  principles  and  laws.  On  the  other  hand,  not 
only  doctrine,  but  art  itself  varies  with  the  growth  of 
knowledge  and  idea  of  beauty. 

Ethics  are  the  principles  of  our  moral  activities  in- 
vestigated and  systematised  by  reason  and  intellect. 
Morals  are,  however,  not  founded  upon  reason  or 
intellect,  but  spring  from  the  moral  sense  (conscience) 
within,  and  the  law  of  God  without. 

The  relation  of  the  conscience  or  moral  sense  to  ethics  Ethics  and 

Conscience. 

is  identical  with  the  relation  of  the  aesthetic  and  artistic 
sense  to  fine  arts.  It  is  the  natural  inborn  and  intuitive 
perception  of  those  eternal  and  natural  principles  which 
it  is  the  business  of  ethics  to  make  explicit. 

Thus  we  have,  first,  the  eternal  principles  themselves. ; 
second,  their  rational  and  intelligent  analysis — ethics ; 
third,  the  intuitive  perception  of  them — conscience;  • 
fourth,  their  concrete  and  practical  exhibition — character,* 
This  is  the  order  of  merit ;  the  real  order  in  which  we 
advance  is:  First,  the  moral  sense;  second,  the  character; 
third,  the  system  of  ethics  ;  fourth,  the  discovery  of  the 


44  SPRINGS  OP  CHARACTER 

underlying  and  eternal  principles.  Character  is  the 
product  of  the  external  influences  of  nature  and  of  God. 
as  well  as  of  the  moral  sense  within. 

Wundt  traces  three  stages  in  the  history  of  morals, 
In  the  first  morals  are  entirely  religious ;  in  the  second 
a  clear  distinction  is  seen  between  religion  and  morals  ; 
and  in  the  third  the  two,  though  seen  to  be  distinct,  are 
united  in  the  common  object.  The  right  is  seen  to  be 
the  good,  and  the  wrong  bad.  This  analysis  is  no  doubt 
historically  true  in  Europe,  but  does  not  represent  the 
natural  and  universal  development. 

Every  human  being  has  a  rudimentary  moral  sense, 
and  the  adjustment  of  his  conduct  to  the  moral  relations 
which  he  naturally  feels  should  exist  between  himself  and 
his  environment  (God,  Nature  and  his  fellowmen)  forms 
his  character. 

We  must  thus  first  of  all  assume  the  existence  of  a 
universal  principle  of  moral  sense.  We  then  observe 
that  its  local  development  varies  in  different  places  and 
races,  thus  resembling  religion.  For,  as  religions  appear, 
we  observe  how  they  are  affected  by  national  and  racial 
characteristics.  How  the  family  dominates  the  Confucian 
ideal  and  makes  for  domestic  virtues  ;  how  the  State 
dominates  the  Graeco- Roman  ideal,  and  makes  for 
political  virtue ;  how  individualism  dominates  the 
Buddhist  ideal,  and  makes  for  the  detachment  of  the 
individual  from  his  environment ;  how  Christianity  is 
characterised  by  its  true  balance  of  the  claims  of  God 
and  man. 

The  Chinaman  worships  his  domestic  ancestor ;  the 


CHARACTER  AND  ETHICS  45 

Hebrews  regarded  Jehovah  as  a  national  God  ;  the  idols 

of  Greek  and  Rome  were  local  and  tribal ;  the  Buddhist 

is  lost  in  his  god,  and  god  in  him  ;  the  Christian  worships 

the  God  and  Saviour  of  all  men  ;  the  morals  in  every 

case  following  the  character  of  the  religion  and  God. 

We  turn  now  from  these  general  considerations  to  look  Greek,  Chris- 
tian and 
Specially  at  Greek   ethics,  Christian   ethics   and    (what  ModernEihics 

may  be  termed)  Modern   ethics,  on  each  of  which  we 

will  offer  some  very  brief  remarks. 

Greek  ethics,  in  the  youth  of  the  civilised  world,  aimed 
at  reaching  good  and  present  happiness  (though  seen  to 
be  partly  unattainable)  by  external  action. 

In  the  middle  or  Christian  era  happiness  was  more 
relegated  to  another  world,  and  obedience  to  duty  and 
Divine  laws  were  the  principles  in  evidence ;  while  now, 
in  the  present  day,  many  philosophers  base  conduct  on 
natural  laws  apart  from  dogma,  and  look  more  to  the 
•future  in  this  world  than  in  the  next  We  will  very 
briefly  glance  at  these  three  schools. 

One  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  Greek  ethical  systems  Peculiarities 

of  the  Greek 

was  this — that  they  arose  out  of  the  ashes  of  the  Greek  School 
religious  systems.     They  were  exclusively  moral  philo- 
sophies— scientific   and   intellectual ;   not   moral   arts — 
religious  and  emotional. 

They  are  not  therefore  strictly  comparable  with 
Christianity  or  other  religions,  which  are  moral  arts,  not 
sciences.  We  may  no  doubt  form  a  Christian  moral 
science,  but  it  ever  remains  subordinate  to  the  Christian 
art  of  living  ;  whereas  in  Greece  the  intellectual  element 
was  dominant ;  the  philosophers  repudiated  absolutely 


40  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

the  pagan  moral  art,  and  made  no  attempt  to  justify 
it ;  nor  did  they  attempt  to  put  a  more  rational  art  or 
religion  in  its  place.  Consequently  Greek  ethics  for  the 
mass  of  mankind  were  utterly  ineffectual  ;  for  mankind 
in  general  wants  an  art,  not  a  philosophy. 

All  Greek  ethics  were  unpsychological  in  their 
methods,  reasoning  from  the  universe  without  to  the  e^o 
within,  instead  of  vice  versd  ;  finding  the  rules  for  govern- 
ance of  self  in  the  principles  seen  in  Nature. 

One  great  school  recognised  nothing  but  passing 
sensations  (Protagoras),  another  postulated  a  permanent 
"  Ego "  and  a  "  God,"  and  a  reason  founded  on  their 
existence  (Zeno),  while  Plato  and  Aristotle  sought  to 
adjust  both  of  these  into  one  system  of  ethics. 

All  Greek  schools  assumed  that  to  be  capable  of 
knowing  anything  one  must  have  a  share  of  its  nature 
in  yourself ;  an  assumption  of  the  most  profound  truth 
and  importance,  as  we  shall  see  when  we  come  to  speak 
of  the  growth  of  character  from  ideas. 

Isolated  maxims  existed  from  all  ages,  but  the  real 
teaching  of  ethics,  or  of  the  science  of  conduct,  began 
with  the  Sophists  (B.C.  500),  and  from  this  period  the 
tendency  of  all  Greek  ethical  teaching  was  to  bring  every 
spring  of  action  which  had  hitherto  been  instinctive 
within  the  range  of  conscious  will,  and  thus  within  the 
range  of  morals  and  under  the  guide  of  moral  laws  in- 
stead of  impulses. 
Ethics  of  Plato       Jq  come  to  details,  Plato  gives  us  three  elementary 

and  Aristotle.  ^ 

natural  qualities  or  appetences  :  Reason  (i/oO?),  Impulse 
{BvfjM^)  and  Appetite  (iiroOv/jna),  which  in  their  perfect 


CHARACTER  AND  ETHICS  47 

expression  formed  the  three  virtues  of  wisdom,  courage 
and  self-control. 

Over  these  three  he  placed  "  Right "  (BiKaioa-vvrj)  or 
Justice,  in  other  words,  conscience  or  the  moral  sense, 
which  gave  the  appetences  their  value  and  directed  their 
use. 

The  four  cardinal  virtues  therefore  were  wisdom, 
courage,  self-control  or  temperance,  and  justice  or  right. 

Plato  insisted  that  the  true  art  of  living  is  an  act  of 
dying  to  mere  sense,  in  order  more  fully  to  exist  in 
intimate  union  with  goodness  and  beauty — a  noble  and 
profound  thought  in  harmony  with  the  fuller  teaching 
of  Christianity.  Plato  further  insisted  that  the  proper 
aim  of  man  is  not  pleasure,  but  truth,  beauty  and  right ; 
which  are  to  be  sought  for  their  own  worth. 

With  Aristotle,  too,  pleasure  is  not  the  end  of  well- 
being,  but  an  accident  in  it.  The  two  were  thus  con- 
nected, not  as  equal  objects,  but  as  cause  and  effect. 

After  Aristotle  wisdom  and  pleasure  were  divorced, 
each  being  made  objects  of  life  by  the  two  rival  schools 
of  Stoics  and  Epicureans. 

Curiously  enough,  benevolence  or  love  to  others  is 
not  recognised  definitely  by  Plato  or  Aristotle,  and  first 
appears  in  Cicero  and  the  later  Stoics. 

Both  in  Plato  and  Aristotle  the  political  virtues  are 
dominant ;  they  aim  at  making  good  citizens  by  sub- 
ordinating the  lower  animal  principles  to  the  reason. 
But  the  Greek  idea  of  the  state  was  a  very  narrow 
one,  excluding  women  and  foreigners  ;  hence  purity  and 
benevolence  have  no  place  in  their  systems. 


48  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

It  is  notable  how,  with  the  decay  of  the  Greek  states, 
pleasure,  i.e.,  individual  happiness,  came  to  be  made  the 
end  of  existence.  While  the  Greek  ttoX^?  was  in  its 
vigour  such  a  philosophy  could  not  have  much  vogue. 

We  may  further  remark  generally  that  the  Greeks 
looked  on  all  the  virtues  as  one  in  essence,  however 
diverse  in  expression.  With  this  the  latest  utterance 
of  our  philosophers  agrees  :  "  However  diverse  they  (the 
virtues)  may  appear  .  .  .  the  seeing  and  sympathetic 
eye  may  trace  underneath  all  diversities  one  and  the 
same  moral  spirit  striving  manifoldly  to  vitalise  human 
nature  ".^ 

In  Neo-Platonism  (Plotinus,  etc.),  which  was  contem- 
porary with  early  Christianity  (A.D.  3CX)),  and  in  Philo 
we  get  the  idea  that  good  resides  in  the  soul,  and  evil 
In  the  body. 

The  earlier  Greek  ethics  were  remarkably  pure  and 
lofty,  and  represent  probably  the  greatest  height  the 
natural  conscience  of  man  can  reach,  apart  from  express 
revelation,  when  trained  by  philosophic  thought. 

We  may  now  pass  on  to  Christian  ethics  with  just 
one  illustration  from  the  death-bed  of  the  heathen  philo- 
sopher Theophrastus  (B.C.  300)  of  the  serious  way  in 
which  life  was  regarded.  His  last  words  were  :  "  Few 
things  in  life  are  solid  goods.  For  my  own  part  it  is 
too  late  for  me  to  consider  which  way  of  life  is  the  most 
eligible ;  but  you,  who  are  to  survive  me,  cannot  think 
too  deliberately  before  you  make  your  choice." 

^  FtoL  M*Cann,  The  Making  of  Character  (1900),  p.  133. 


CHARACTER  AND  ETHICS  49 

Christianity  includes  both  the  Christian  religion  and  Christian  r© 

ligion  and 

Christian  ethics.  The  former  has  a  distinct  circle  of  Ethics. 
ideas  that  are  not  necessarily  included  in  any  form  of 
ethics.  These  doctrines  are  partly  based  on  the  moral 
sense,  but  ti-anscend  its  sphere  in  every  way.  Christian 
ethics  are  their  result,  not  their  cause.  Christian  doc- 
trines include  a  sense  of  sin  (of  which  there  is  no  trace  in 
Athenian  philosophy),  of  personal  alienation  from  God — 
a  scheme  of  redemption  and  holiness  by  the  work  of,  and 
through  faith  in,  a  Person  ;  an  inward  sanctification  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  and  eternal  life  with  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Those  who  would  reduce  Christianity  to  the  ethics  it 
contains  will  here  see  how  much  is  superadded  by  such 
doctrines,  and  how  the  circle  of  thought  indicated  above 
must  modify  and  react  on  all  previous  ethical  theory  ; 
so  that  Christian  ethics  become  necessarily  a  compound 
of  religion  and  ethics  ;  or  perhaps  we  may  say  that 
Christian  ethics  is  one  thing  and  Christian  religion 
another. 

The  point  is  that  in  Christianity  ethics  must  always  Religion  is 

more  than 

be  subordinate  to  religion — the  philosophy  to  the  life  ;  Ethics. 
whereas  in  Greece  the  opposite  was  the  case — when  the 
philosophers  arose  Greek  nature  worship  was  dying. 

Ethics  have  very  little  effect  on  character.  Religion 
has  much  ;  it  is  a  natural  school  of  character.  Ethics 
do  not  mould  character  as  religion  does  ;  they  do  not 
affect  the  emotions,  they  have  no  vital  force,  and  are  * 
purely  intellectual.  Let  it  be  clearly  understood,  how- 
ever, that  religion  without  morality  is  dead,  but  that 
morals  apart  from  religion  may  exist. 


50  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

No  doubt  it  is  the  fact  of  Christianity  setting  up  the 
narrow  entrance  to  the  highest  types  of  life,  of  sacrifice, 
atonement  and  faith  that  is  the  great  stumbling-block 
to  those  who  look  on  ethics  pure  and  simple  as  sufficient. 
However  fully  true  and  lofty  ethics  may  be  taught  in 
Christianity,  these  are  not,  as  we  have  seen,  its  most 
distinctive  features,  which  are  unique ;  while  these  have 
much  in  common  with  Greek  ethics,  and  with  those 
great  eastern  religions  of  which  we  have  not  spoken. 
We  must  insist  that  the  foundations  of  our  religion 
are  those  we  have  laid  down  ;  and  it  is  these  that  are 
essentially  "  Christian  ".  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
however  firmly  a  man  may  have  embraced  these  doc- 
trines we  cannot  conceive  him  to  be  truly  entitled  to 
be  called  a  Christian  man  if  he  does  not  in  his  life 
practise  Christian  ethics.  Without  these  his  life  but 
mocks  God,  and  brings  on  himself  a  greater  condem- 
nation. 

Wundt,  our  best  German  psychologist,  insists  that 
"  the  merit  of  moral  life  is  not  primarily  outward  right- 
eousness of  life,  but  a  purity  of  the  inward  motives  ;  and 
Christianity  ends  a  conflict  which  the  religions  of  old 
were  never  able  to  terminate — a  struggle  which  is  the 
subject  of  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles.  Christianity  gave 
the  percept  of  conscience  a  clear  superiority  over  out- 
ward action.*' 
Christian  True  psychological  ethics  are  peculiar  to  Christianity, 

logical.  i.e.,  reaching  the  principles  of  character  from  introspec- 

tion ;  those  of  Greece  proceeding,  as  we  have  seen,  in 
the  opposite  way.      In  Christianity  the   mystery  and 


CHARACTER  AND  ETHICS  51 

centre  of  interest  lies  in  human  nature,  and  not  in  the 
outside  world. 

Rightness  of  heart  and  not  of  mere  conduct  is  the 
essential  characteristic  of  Christian  goodness. 

Wundt  says  the  deepening  of  ethical  significance  in 
modern  use  of  words  takes  place  by  a  shift  of  the 
emphasis  from  the  external  to  the  internal  attributes. 

Religion,  however,  affects  conduct  from  without  as 
well  by.  three  fresh  concepts :  First,  the  love  and 
character  of  God  ;  second,  the  eternal  world  ;  and  third, 
new  social  considerations  based  on  new  views  of  life. 
From  the  first  spread  of  Christianity  these  new  principles 
made  their  force  felt,  but  it  was  not  until  the  fourth 
century  that  Christian  ethics  were  established  as  a  system; 
and,  we  may  say,  not  until  Thomas  Aquinas  in  the 
thirteenth  century  were  they  fully  developed  by  the 
schoolmen. 

The  seven  deadly  sins  were  pride,  avarice,  anger, 
gluttony,  impurity,  envy,  vainglory.  Augustine  con- 
structed seven  Christian  virtues  by  adopting  the  four  of 
Plato — wisdom,  temperance,  virtue  and  justice,  and 
adding  to  them  faith,  hope  and  charity.  The  real 
additions  that  Christian  ethics  made  to  Pagan  in  the  list 
of  virtues  are  obedience  (to  God),  patience,  benevolence, 
purity,  humility  and  holiness.  Obedience  to  God's  will 
as  positive  good  revealed  is  quite  different  from  that 
yielded  by  Socrates  to  the  natural  and  informal  supposed 
law  of  "  God  ".  Benevolence  and  love,  too,  are  peculiarly 
Christian  virtues. 

The  inward  spring  the  Pagan  relied  upon  in  his  system 


Sa  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

of  ethics  was  knowledge  and  wisdom ;  in  Christian  ethics 
it  is  rather  love  and  faith. 
Modern  We  have  now  perhaps  said  enough  to  indicate  what 

Systems  of 

Ethics.  additions  and  alterations  Christianity  made  to  the  con- 

cepts of  Greek  ethics.  It  only  remains  for  us  to  see 
what  modern  forms  of  ethics  have  been  devised  by  those 
who  partly  or  wholly  reject  Christianity  as  a  sufficient 
scheme  of  life. 

These  have,  of  course,  a  different  standpoint  from 
the  Greek,  though  many  know  it  not.  For  the  light  of 
Christianity  has  shined,  and  its  principles  and  objects  are 
common  knowledge,  as  well  amongst  those  who  reject 
it  as  amongst  those  who  accept  it.  The  former,  there- 
fore, in  constructing  systems  of  ethics  cannot  fail  to  be 
unconsciously  influenced  by  the  new  force.  Benevolence, 
for  instance,  is  hardly  likely  to  be  left  out  of  any  system 
of  ethics  again. 

Some,  indeed,  would  form  a  principle  of  life  from 
which  ethics  itself  is  excluded.  They  use  language  like 
the  following  :  "  Why  should  we  hamper  ourselves  with 
the  outworn  theologies  of  the  past,  with  the  uncertainties 
of  religion  or  the  subtleties  of  the  moral  code  "  ?  Others 
scorn  "  neighbour  morality  "  or  altruism.  A  man  is  to  be 
sufficient  to  himself  by  his  own  will  and  powers.  We 
are  to  have  no  fear,  no  worship  of  God  or  man,  or  even 
self,  because  man  rules  himself  completely.  Ethics, 
morals  and  duties  are  to  be  no  more.  ^ 

Personal  Hedonism,  which  says  the  agreeable  is  the  good,  is 

and  universal 

Hedonism.      perhaps    the    boldest    modern   system  which   may   be 

^  Nietzsche  and  others. 


CHARACTER  AND  ETHICS  53 

dignified  as  ethics.  It  has  and  has  had  well-known 
apostles  in  this  country,  and  those  who  disagree  with  its 
principles  (if  such  they  can  be  called),  and  with  the 
excesses  they  lead  to,  believe  that  it  has  done  harm 
wherever  it  has  been  promulgated.  Epicureanism,  which 
it  resembles,  had  itself  loftier  aims,  and  was  on  a  totally 
different  footing  from  this  anachronism  of  the  nineteenth 
century. 

To  Comte  Christianity  itself  is  the  consecration  of 
egotism.  It  is  undoubtedly  primarily  individual,  and 
exalts  the  personality  of  man  ;  but  it  does  not  ex- 
haust itself  here  ;  but  in  the  Saviour's  teachings  especi- 
ally we  get  the  founding  of  a  "  kingdom  of  heaven,"  and 
in  St.  Paul's  of  a  church,  of  which  all  the  members  care 
for  one  another. 

Those  who  found  their  incentives  of  life  in  social 
rather  than  individual  interests  invented  an  improvement 
on  mere  Hedonism  (which  it  will  be  observed  is  only  per- 
sonal), a  Utilitarianism  or  Universal  Hedonism  which  is 
a  considerable  advance  on  that  we  have  condemned. 

These  say  that  the  qualities  of  natural  morality  are 
founded  on  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number,  as, 
for  instance:  self-control,  truthfulness,  justice,  kindness 
and  morality  itself. 

Utilitarianism,  therefore,  in  its  highest  flight  is  the 
greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number,  and  asserts 
that  common  welfare  is  morality. 

The  utilitarian  argues  it  is  good  to  be  happy,  that 
happiness  is  the  good  ;  the  perfectionist  (another  variety) 
argues  it  is  happy  to  be  good,  that  perfect  goodness  is 


54  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

happiness.  The  two  are,  of  course,  connected  by  the 
perception  that  by  maintaining  our  health  and  promoting 
our  happiness  we  may  discharge  a  duty  to  ourselves  and 
others,  and  thus  we  can  purify  our  desires  by  identify- 
ing them  with  moral  ends.  Hobbes,  Hartley,  Bentham, 
James  Mill,  John  Stuart  Mill,  Austin  and  Bain  are  all 
for  Utilitarian  Hedonism,  as  opposed  to  intuitive  morals 
or  acting  from  a  moral  sense  within. 

In  addition  to  those  who  connect  morals  with  sensa- 
tion, as  Epicurus  and  Bentham,  or  with  social  welfare,  as 
Mill  and  Bain,  we  have  those  who  connect  them  with 
intellect,  as  Cudworth  and  Clark,  and  others  again  with 
the  sense  of  beauty  and  fitness,  as  Shaftesbury  and 
Hutcheson.^ 

We  see  from  all  this  that  the  subject  of  modern 
philosophy  is  not  the  relation  of  the  real  and  of  the 
apparent  so  much  as  of  the  subject  and  the  object,  the 
e£;-o  and  the  non-ego.  The  individualist  on  the  one  hand 
extends  self  so  as  to  embrace  the  universe,  while  the 
socialist  on  the  other  extends  the  universe  so  that  the 
ego  is  a  mere  phenomenon  in  it. 

Finally,  the  most  modern  school  of  all,  which  has 
already  made  that  of  Mill  and  Bain  out  of  date,  is  that 
of  Evolutionary  Ethics  as  propounded  by  Herbert 
Spencer,  Darwin,  Leslie  Stephen  and  others. 

It    may   fairly   be    called    Evolutionary   Hedonism 
tracing,  as  it  does,  the  rise  and  progress  of  morals  to  the 
sense  of  pleasure  and  pain  acted  on  dimly  by  animals, 
and  gradually  perfectly  evolved  by  humanity. 
*  Martineau. 


CHARACTER   AND  ETHICS  55 

It  may  perhaps  be  questioned  whether  we  have  gained  Which  is  best? 
either  in  our  standpoint  or  in  truth  by  substituting  these 
for  Christian  ethics.  There  are  many  who  think  we 
have,  and  to  whom  Christianity  is  already  effete ;  but 
there  are  others  who  think  from  observation  that  this  is 
not  so,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  there  never  was  a  time 
when  Christian  ethics  had  a  greater  power,  or  were  more 
practically  adopted  with  the  best  results  ;  not,  indeed, 
only  by  those  who  call  themselves  Christians,  but  by 
others,  who,  while  repudiating  the  doctrines  of  the  faith, 
tacitly  admit  the  superiority  of  its  ethics  by  adopting 
them  more  or  less  in  whatever  new  systems  they  invent. 


CHAPTER  V. 

CHARACTER  AND  HEREDITY. 

The  Springs  of  Character — the  subject  which  forms  our 
title — will  be  specially  considered  in  the  two  following 
chapters  and  in  Chapter  X. 
The  full  Scope        As  already  indicated  in  Chapter  I.,  it  is  impossible  to 

of  Mind  must  i      ,  .  i  .  .  ,  11  .  , 

be  grasped,  understand  this  subject  without  clearly  grasping  that 
mind  must  not,  and  cannot,  be  limited  to  consciousness. 
It  is  claimed,  indeed,  by  those  who  would  so  limit  it,  that 
**  consciousness  "  is  the  one  quality  that  is  essentially 
psychic.  But  this  surely  is  too  much  to  claim.  For 
instance,  wherever  we  get  purpose  clearly  seen,  or  moral 
principle  or  any  spiritual  quality,  we  feel  equally  certain 
that  these  are  not,  and  cannot  be,  properties  of  matter  as 
such,  but  are  definitely  and  distinctly  psychical :  whether 
they  are  directly  discerned  by  consciousness  at  the  time, 
or  only  inferred,  while  themselves  in  unconsciousness, 
does  not  in  the  least  matter.  So  that  consciousness  is  not 
the  only,  and  probably  not  the  most  important,  property 
of  mind. 

We  are  obliged  to  state  our  position  clearly  as  to 
this,  simply  because  the  very  difficulty  attaching  to  all 
discussion  of  character  lies  mainly  in  this  one  fact,  that 

(56) 


CHARACTER  AND  HEREDITY  57 

its  home  is  in  the  unconscious  mind ;  and  one  of  the 
most  difficult  mental  feats  is  to  bring  it  into  conscious- 
ness, a  feat,  we  may  add,  so  difficult  that  at  best  it  is 
only  partially  possible,  with  the  result  that  our  character 
is  never  fully  known  to  ourselves,  and  only  our  Maker 
sees  truly  what  we  are.  This  we  considered  in  Chapter 
II. 

"  Man's  soul,"  says  Emerson,  "  is  a  stream  whose 
source  is  hidden.  We  are,  indeed,  more  than  we  know, 
and  occasionally  hear  ourselves  utter  things  we  know 
not." 

If  character  then  be  hidden  so  deep  in  the  night  of 
the  unconscious,  what  shall  we  say  of  its  springs  ? 

We  are  not  here  speaking  of  the  springs  of  conduct,  The  Springs 

of  Character. 

or  the  motives  of  our  actions ;  these  are  easier  to  trace, 
being  the  qualities  of  our  characters.  But  the  question 
is,  What  are  the  springs  of  character  itself?  We  have 
shown  in  Chapter  I.  that  the  word  '* spring"  has  two  or 
more  meanings.  It  may  be  a  source  or  a  motor  power, 
and  we  have  to  consider  it  in  both  aspects.  As  a  source, 
there  are  two  springs  of  character ;  while  as  motor  power 
there  is  one — or  three  in  all.  McCosh  says  very  well :  ^ 
"  Character  depends  on  heredity,  surroundings  and  will ". 
The  first  two  sources  have  been  described  as  nature  and 
nurture,  which  we  will  proceed  to  speak  of  as  heredity 
and  habit.     The  third  we  consider  in  Chapter  X. 

We  all  (except  Weissman  and  his  followers)  believe 
in  the  inheritance  of  moral  tendencies,  and,  in  short,  in 

»  McCosh,  Psychology,  Tfu  Motive  Powers,  p.  355. 


)•  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

the  foundations  of  a  character  by  heredity.  The  first 
great  spring  is,  therefore,  our  ancestry;  and  it  is  no 
little  advantage,  in  analysing  character,  that  this  should 
be  traceable :  hence  the  value  rightly  set  on  lineage  and  a 
good  stock. 

Now,  grafted  upon  this,  we  get  additions  to  our 
hereditary  character  in  the  shape  of  new  principles. 
These  at  first  form  no  part  of  tJie  character^  though  we 
may  act  on  them.  It  is  only  when,  by  force  of  repetition, 
they  become  habitual,  instinctive,  natural,  unconscious, 
and  part  of  ourselves,  that  we  can  truly  say  they  form 
fresh  springs  of  character. 
Heredity  and  The  foundations  of  character  therefore  lie  in  heredity ; 

Character. 

and  all  true  additions  are  acquired  by  habits  becoming 
incorporated  with  the  character,  so  as  to  become  spon- 
taneous and  proceed  from  unconscious  sources. 

We  must  insist  on  this,  for  so  many  of  our  actions 
form  no  part  of  our  real  character,  but  are  the  result  of 
passing  whims  or  conscious  effort.  All  that  comes  from 
character  necessarily  has  an  instinctive  source  in  the 
unconscious,  since  character  itself  is  there,  and  influences 
and  moulds  the  life  unconsciously. 

Now  no  action  that  is  instinctive,  or  purely  uncon- 
scious, can  have  merit  attaching  to  it  per  se,  though  it 
may  possess  both  wisdom  and  beauty. 
No  Merit  A  character  then   does  not  owe  its  moral  value  in 

Unconscious  action  to  either  of  these  two  springs  of  heredity  or  habit, 
both  being  alike  instinctive  and  unconscious.  We  must 
go  to  the  third  spring — the  source  of  power  and  activity 
— like  the  mainspring  of  a  watch.     This  spring  is  our 


CHARACTER  AND  HEREDITY  59 

conscious  will  guided  by  our  moral  sense.  And  it  is  as 
reasonable  and  responsible  beings  that  merit  or  demerit, 
therefore,  attaches  to  all  our  conscious  deeds,  though 
these  may  spring  from  unconscious  sources,  to  which, 
strictly  speaking,  no  merit  can  attach. 

Let  us  be  sure  that  our  meaning  is  clear.  Responsibility 
and  merit  do  not  attach  to  what  we  are  until  that  self  is 
expressed  in  conscious  action,  it  may  be  of  thought  or 
word  or  deed. 

Of  course  the  will  and  the  moral  sense  that  guides  it 
are  themselves,  in  a  way,  a  part  of  the  character  they 
move.  It  is  the  element  of  conscious  choice,  and  the 
exercise  of  the  power  of  choice,  and  a  free  will  that  alone 
can  constitute  merit  or  responsibility.  These,  therefore, 
must  be  postulated  if  we  are  to  be  regarded  as  reasonable 
men  and  responsible  beings. 

A  strong  character  is  one  with  a  strong  mainspring 
or  will.  It  is  not  necessarily  good ;  that  is  determined  by 
the  strength  of  the  moral  sense.  A  weak  will  means  a 
weak  mainspring,  but  not  necessarily,  therefore,  a  bad 
character. 

It  will  now  be  apparent  how  a  character  can  be 
altered  in  expression  and  in  merit,  though  much  the 
same  in  its  constitution,  by  the  substitution  of  a  new 
spring  of  will  or  power  or  direction  of  moral  sense. 
*'  The  new  nature,"  spoken  of  by  Christians,  is  not  a 
new  character.  Character  can  never  thus  be  changed 
in  a  moment.  It  is  a  new  moral  sense  and  a  new  source 
of  will  power,  so  that  the  character  differs  in  expression 
and  in  its  motor  principles.     In  this  and  in  all  other 


00  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Statements  made  on  such  subjects,  however,  let  us  ever 
remember  that  they  are  probably  not  absolutely  accurate, 
but  are  merely  approximate  to  the  truth. 
Character  Character,  therefore,  depends  in  the   first  instance 

may  be  trans- 
mitted, on  heredity.     "  We  may,"  says  Huxley,^  "  veritably  say 

this  moral  and  intellectual  essence  of  a  man  does  pass 

over  from  one  fleshly  tabernacle  to  another.      In  the 

new-born  infant  the  character  of  the  stock  lies  latent ; 

and  the  ^eg-o'  is  a  bundle  of  potentialities." 

Dr.  Hill  of  Cambridge  says :  ^  "  I  am  glad  Dr.  Scho- 
field  believes  in  the  inheritance  of  habit.  .  .  .  We  need 
no  longer  try  to  settle  the  much-discussed  question  of 
whether  acquired  characters  are  transmissible  by  looking 
out  for  cases  in  which  gross  anatomical  changes  are 
inherited  by  children  not  brought  up  to  their  parents' 
tract,  but  we  may  assert  with  confidence  that  the  central 
nervous  system,  as  modified  by  the  deliberate  choice  of 
the  individual,  tends  to  be  transmitted  to  his  offspring.'* 

The  main  stream  of  character  is  due  to  the  formation 
of  brain  and  nerve,  as  well  as  mind,  from  heredity.  In 
one  sense  a  new-born  child  has  not  so  much  as  yet 
character,  but  disposition.  True  character  comes  later 
on,  but  disposition  and  individuality  are  already  its 
possession  from  heredity. 

"  Inheritance,"  says  Furneaux  Jordan,  "  mainly  deter- 
mines whether  a  man  shall  be  capable  or  incapable,  brave 
or  cowardly,  trustful  or  suspicious,  prudent  or  reckless, 

1  Huxley,  Romanes  Lecture,  Evolution  and  Ethics,  p.  15. 

2  Dr.  Alex.  Hill,  Inquiry  into  the  Formation  of  Habit  in  Man,  p.  24, 
Victoria  Institute. 


CHARACTER  AND  HEREDITY  6i 

voluble  or  taciturn."  Circumstances  come  into  play- 
rather  in  details  and  smaller  matters.  We  may  say 
heredity  supplies  the  framework  or  skeleton  that  gives 
the  main  outlines,  subsequent  habits  add  the  flesh,  etc., 
while  the  conscious  will  animates  the  whole  into  re- 
sponsible action. 

There  are  one  or  two  points  about  ancestry  that  may 
be  touched  on  here. 

Hereditary  qualities  may  descend  directly,  as  from  Direct  and  in- 
direct Heredity 
father  to  son  ;  or  indirectly,  as  from  father  to  daughter ;  and  Atavism. 

or  by  atavism,  as  from  grandfather  to  grandson ;  or  be 
transmitted  collaterally,  as  from  aunt  to  nephew.  At 
first  sight  it  might  be  thought  that  the  children  of  the 
same  two  parents  must  all  have  pretty  nearly  the  same 
characters  at  the  start,  and  it  is  from  this  error  that  so 
many  children  are  badly  brought  up,  by  adopting  the 
same  regime  with  all.  In  the  first  place  the  children  are 
not  merely  the  offspring  of  two,  but  of  six  at  least  (for 
we  must  always  consider  the  four  grandparents  as  in- 
fluencing the  child),  and,  more  broadly  still,  of  the  stock 
as  well  as  of  the  parentage  from  which  he  is  descended. 
In  the  second  place  these  six  "  parents  "  may  be  mixed  The  six 

1  .1  ,    .  .  .  ^  ,  .    Parents. 

m  the  child  m  very  varymg  proportions.  One  that  is 
nearly  all  maternal  grandmother,  with  a  little  of  the 
father  added,  will  probably  be  utterly  different  from  his 
brother,  who  is  a  compound  of  both  paternal  grand- 
parents with  a  strong  dash  of  his  mother. 

Parentage  imposes  certain  definite  limitations. 
Carlyle  always  maintained  that  two  fools  never  can 
and  never  will  produce  a  wise  child ;  and  I  think,  if  \^ 


62  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

addition  the  four  grandparents  are  fools,  the  statement 
will  always  hold  good. 

Furneaux  Jordan  declares  it  never  happens  that  a 
child  takes  after  one  parent  physically  and  after  the 
other  in  character.  We  may,  indeed,  generally  assume 
that  marked  physical  likeness  goes  with  mental  re- 
semblance. 

Ancestry  again  is  responsible  for  the  "  old-fashioned  " 
air  of  most  of  our  children,  who  only  catch  up  the  A.D.  in 
which  they  are  living  by  adding  to  their  hereditary 
equipment  by  habit.  We  are  really  only  "up-to-date" 
as  a  rule  in  the  middle  third  of  our  lives,  and  even  this  is 
often  a  great  effort.  Here  and  there  a  child  is  born 
distinctly  in  advance  of  his  time,  but  these  are  rare 
exceptions. 

When  a  child  is  born  he  is  the  product,  mind  and 
body,  of  the  forces  of  heredity.  Not  only  his  body,  but 
his  mind  is  deeply  impressed  with  the  characters  of  his 
parentage.  His  mind  is  no  tabula  rasa,  but  is  already 
thickly  sown  with  seeds,  some  of  which  are  definite 
qualities,  but  the  greater  part  at  first  merely  tendencies. 
We  inherit  We  are   no  longer   believed    as   a  rule  to  inherit 

positive  virtues  or  vices  any  more  than  actual  bodily 
diseases,  but  rather  tendencies  to  such. 

"  It  was  formerly  thought,"  says  Holman,^  "  that 
well-marked  peculiarities,  physical  or  mental,  in  the 
parent  were  handed  on  to  the  child.  But  this  theory 
is  now  regarded  as  untenable,  and  it  is  held  there  is 
nothing  more  than  a  tendency  to  develop  such  qualities.* 

^  Pro£  Holman,  Introduction  to  Education,  p.  450ii 


Tendencies. 


CHARACTER  AND  HEREDITY  63 

This  is  not  wholly  true,  but  like  all  else  is  to  be  taken 
as  approximately  so. 

For  instance,  two  faculties  at  least  are  seen  in  every 
child  (with  the  rarest  exception)  from  its  earliest  years, 
which  seem  to  be  largely  the  foundations  of  the  sub- 
sequent emotions  and  reason.  They  are  love  and  the 
sense  of  justice.  All  children  "  love,"  and  all  children 
have  an  instinctive  sense  of  "justice". 

Surely  there  is  nothing  strained,  when  we  see  these  Loveand  Ligi 

in  the  Inrant 

two  characteristics  mirrored  in  the  young  child  s  soul,  in  Soul, 
discerning  the  reflection  of  the  Almighty,  who  is  love  and 
who  is  light  (or  justice).  Here  the  child  reproduces  as 
two  principles  in  its  unconscious  mind  the  fulfilling  of 
the  whole  law  :  and  the  stamp  or  character  of  the  great 
Creator  is  clearly  to  be  discerned  in  these  qualities  in  the 
new-born  babe. 

The  germs  of  morality  are  innate  in  all,  and  this 
inherent  love  of  justice  is  nothing  less  than  the  dawning 
of  the  moral  sense.  The  mere  discerning  of  justice 
might  be  intellectual  only,  but  the  love  of  it  clearly 
brings  in  the  moral  element. 

Of  children  a  little  older  Galton  says :  *  "  The  most 
prominent  characters  in  children  are  energy,  sociability, 
love  of  praise,  truthfulness,  thoroughness,  refinement  *'. 

From  our  personal  knowledge  of  children,  some  of 
these  would  appear  to  be  rather  the  result  of  education 
than  to  be  inherent  We  must  ever  remember  the  special 
qualities  that  reside  in  the  child's  unconscious  mind  arc 
limply  tendencies  and  qualities  of  heredity,  and  it  is  only 

^  F.  Galton,  Enquiries  into  the  Human  Faculty ^  p.  5S. 


64  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

as  the  result  of  (unconscious)  education  that  these  become 
definite  parts  of  a  formed  character. 

With  regard  to  tendencies,  it  is  mainly  this  education 
that  determines  whether  they  shall  develop  into  vices  or 
virtues,  but  we  have  no  time  at  present  to  pursue  this 
fascinating  subject  further.  A  most  beautiful  sketch  of 
hereditary  nobility  of  character,  as  thus  developed,  is 
seen  in  Cedric  Errol,  Lord  Fauntleroy,  Mrs.  Burnett's 
charming  creation  ;  and  even  more  instructive  as  a  study 
in  heredity  is  her  own  autobiography  in  Tke  One  I  Knew 
Best  of  All. 

Discerning  clearly  then  that  every  inherited  instinct 
or  tendency  may  be  developed  into  a  virtue  or  degraded 
into  a  vice,  we  see  the  folly  of  the  advice  of  trusting  to 
the  child's  instinct.     It  must  be  watched,  not  trusted. 

Prof  M'Cunn  says  :  ^  "  When  a  child  has  an  over- 
mastering instinct  of  acquisitiveness,  who  will  prophesy 
the  sequel — thrift  or  avarice?  When  he  has  an  un- 
mistakable hunger  for  praise,  is  it  to  end  in  vainglory  or 
a  just  *  love  of  the  love  of  other  people,'  of  which  love  is 
its  counterfeit?  And  is  there  not  for  every  instinct  a 
like  parting  of  the  ways  ?  " 

Marked  individuality  is  seen  in  children  in  their 
various  likes  and  dislikes.  Some  children,  for  instance, 
naturally  hate  snakes,  others  love  them,  and  others  again 
are  indifferent  to  them. 

Individuality  of  character  in  early  life  is  the  impress 
of  strongly-marked  heredity;  in  late  life,  of  a  strong 
will. 

•  Prof.  M'Cunn,  The  Making  of  Character ^  p.  39. 


CHARACTER  AND  HEREDITY  6$ 

Hereditary  qualities  may  be  deeply  stamped  or  only 
faintly  impressed ;  in  the  latter  case  they  are  later  in 
development,  and  lie  hidden  in  early  life. 

Geniuses  are  the  result  of  some  happy  combination 
of  parentage  with  some  leading  quality  stamped  with 
extraordinary  power. 

We  recognise  this  in  our  expressions.  We  speak  of 
a  **  bom  "  orator  or  actor,  meaning  one  whose  powers 
are  due  to  his  unconscious  mind  and  not  to  his  conscious 
education. 

Mozart  says :  "If  you  think  how  you  are  to  write 
(music)  you  will  never  write  anything  worth  hearing.  I 
write  because  I  cannot  help  it ! "  And  this  is  every- 
where the  language  of  genius. 

And  now  one  word  as  to  the  training  of  these  here-  Methods  of 

early  Trainin| 

dity  principles.  The  best,  the  most  efficacious  training 
of  character  is  that  which  is  addressed  to  the  unconscious 
mind,  that  which  is  carried  on  unconsciously ;  when 
silently  through  all  the  avenues  leading  to  the  brain 
within  the  organ  of  mind  is  developed,  and  the  mind 
itself  unfolds  until  it  blossoms  into  consciousness  and 
self-consciousness  :  the  teacher,  the  instructor,  being  the 
voice  of  Nature,  or  rather  the  voice  of  God.  "  It  is 
good,"  says  Geo.  Macdonald,  in  Robert  Falconer,  "  that 
children  of  faculty  absorb  Nature.  Children  of  faculty 
as  distinguished  from  capacity  should  not  have  many 
books.  They  should  be  exposed  to,  and  left  to  absorb 
all  the  influences  of  Nature." 

"  In  those  early  impressions,  of  which  no  one  seems 
to  be  conscious,  least  of  all  the  child,  and  which  gather 

5 


66  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

up  power  as  the  rolling  avalanche,  the  elements  are 
collected  for  the  future  emotions,  moods,  etc.,  that  make 
up  a  greater  part  of  the  history  of  the  individual/'  ^ 

Every  circumstance,  indeed,  through  a  whole  life  has 
some  influence  on  character. 
Evils  of  artifi-  And  then,  upon  the  too  brief  idyllic  period  of  child- 

cial  Education. 

hood,  conscious  education  and  arbitrary  commands 
break  in ;  often,  alas  !  unwisely  given  by  thoughtless  and 
careless  parents  ;  with  the  result  that  the  Divine  instincts 
of  the  soul  are  dwarfed,  cabined  and  confined  by  short- 
sighted rules  and  maxims  ;  the  child's  mind  is  gradually 
lowered  and  disillusioned  till  it  reaches  the  current  level 
of  its  A.D.,  and  becomes  hard-headed  and  practical. 

As  little  as  possible  is  left  to  spontaneity  in  this 
utilitarian  age;  everything  has  an  "end,"  and  the  whole 
round  of  life  is  hedged  in  on  every  side  by  artificial 
barriers.  Even  the  artless  games  of  childhood  become 
merely  mechanical  means  for  physical  recuperation  or 
mental  relaxation.  "  Must  we  always,"  asks  one  rather 
pathetically,  "be  doing  our  duty?  May  we  not  some- 
times take  a  holiday  from  being  positively  good  ?  May 
we  ever  play  for  the  sake  of  mere  enjoyment,  and  not 
for  recreation  or  the  *  good  it  will  do '  ?  " 

One  great  point  in  favour  of  unconscious  education  is 
that  it  never  interferes  with  the  happiness  of  child-life 
but  increases  it ;  and  this  is  not  such  a  small  matter  as  it 
seems.  Conscious  education  is  needed,  but,  unwisely 
conducted,  it  is  often  a  very  painful  process. 

We  must  ever  recognise  the  two  divisions  of  mind, 
*  Dr.  L.  Waldstein,  The  Sub-Conscious  Self^  p.  47. 


CHARACTER  AND  HEREDITY  67 

and  remember  that  the  springs  (sources),  the  founda- 
tions, roots  and  principles  of  character  lie  deep  in  the 
unconscious  ;  the  flowers  and  fruits  and  actions  being 
seen   in   the   conscious.      During   the  whole   period   of  au  early 

Education  is 

infancy  and  childhood,  whether  we  know  it  or  not,  the  Unconscious 
education  that  is  of  most  value  to  us  is  that  which  is 
received  and  stored  by  the  unconscious  mind ;  and  it  is 
this  education  on  which  the  future  character  so  largely 
depends,  for  through  it  the  tendencies  of  heredity  can 
be  directed  and  modified.  Herbert  Spencer  says :  "  A 
man  is  more  like  the  company  he  keeps  than  that 
from  which  he  is  descended  ".  In  short,  unconscious 
education  is  more  powerful  than  heredity  ;  conscious 
education  is  not. 

No  doubt  fundamental  changes  of  hereditary  qualities 
are  very  rare.  They  may  follow  severe,  and  sometimes 
unsuspected,  head  injuries  and  other  great  shocks. 

Characters  appear  to  change  often  when  they  are 
only  developed.  The  slow  development  of  hereditary 
tendencies  often  looks  very  like  a  radical  change  of 
character. 

Sometimes  heredity  gets  undue  credit  for  qualities  ofsome"Her 
character.     "What  is  often  called  heredity  is  simply  the  ties  really  di 

*r      7      T       •       '  ^»«7*°  early  En- 

expression  of  a  sub-conscious  self,  me  beginmng  ofwmck\ixonxaenx. 
can  be  traced  to  early  childhood,  when  the  actions  of  the 
parents  and  their  example  are  sub-consciously  perceived, 
and,  by   their   conscious   repetition,  form   fundamental 
impressions."  ^ 

"Much  is  often  put  to  the  credit  of  'original  sin/ 

»  Dr.  L.  Waldstein,  The  Sub-Conscious  Self,  p.  19. 


68  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

inherited  by  the  child,  that  is  really  the  avoidable  result 
of  vicious  banes  and  bad  examples  in  early  childhood."^ 
Nature  is  often  thus  credited  with  the  results  of  nurture. 

As  we  have  said,  in  the  hereditary  qualities  we  do  not 
so  much  get  positive  good  and  evil  as  tendencies  (often, 
it  is  true,  with  a  distinct  bias),  but  which  can  be  traced 
in  one  direction  or  the  other. 

"Virtue,"  says  Leslie  Stephen,^  "is  rather  the 
organising  of  the  instincts  than  their  extirpation." 
There  are,  indeed,  few  tendencies  that  are  in  themselves 
so  positively  and  irredeemably  evil  as  to  require  actual 
extirpation.  There  may  be,  and  often  are,  characteristics 
of  this  nature,  but  they  were  "  not  hereditary  in  their 
present  form.  Some  bad  education  has  developed  into 
evil  what  might  have  been  a  quality  for  good." 

We  will  pass  on  to  the  great  supplementary  spring 
of  character  that  is  found  in  the  force  of  habit. 

*  Prof.  M'Cunn,  Making  of  Character^  p.  9. 
■Leslie  Stephen,  Science  of  Ethics ^  p.  30a. 


CHAPTER  VL 

CHARACTER  AND  HABIT. 

We  now  turn  to  the  important  relations  between  habit  EflfectsofHabi 

*■  on  Character. 

and  character,  and  we  find  that  they  are  twofold.  In  the 
first  place  the  original  tendencies  of  heredity,  of  which 
we  have  just  spoken,  can  be  modified  for  good  or  evil  ; 
and  in  the  second,  new  principles  of  character  can  be 
added  by  the  force  of  habit.  "  Sow  an  act,  reap  a  habit ; 
sow  a  habit,  reap  a  character;  sow  a  character,  reap  a 
destiny.*'  We  may  well  and  truly,  therefore,  regard 
habit  as  the  supplementary  spring  or  source  of  character. 

Now,  habit  in  thought  is  as  well  and  truly  formed  as 
habit  in  action. 

Consciousness  necessarily  attends  at  first  every  act  of 
reason  ;  but  when  the  act  has  been  repeated  a  thousand 
times  and  becomes  instinctive,  it  is  performed  uncon- 
sciously, and  a  habit  is  the  result. 

There  are  one  or  two  interesting  points  in  the  forma- 
tion of  a  habit.  In  the  first  place  the  action  must  never 
be  varied.  Attention  in  the  formation  of  a  habit  also 
seems  greatly  to  deepen  its  impression  on  the  brain,  and 
make  it  much  more  easy  to  establish  ;    and  we  must 

(69) 


TO  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

remember  it  is  much  easier  to  form  habits  we  like  than 
those  we  do  not. 

There  are  many  psychologists  who,  resolutely 
denying  unconscious  mind  action,  relegate  all  processes 
of  thought,  which  by  continuance  have  become  habitual, 
to  material  agencies ;  and  deny  altogether  their  mental 
character,  simply  because  they  are  unconscious.  This 
is  well  answered  by  Bastian :  ^  "  That  which  is  realisable 
now  may  after  a  time  cease  to  be  so ;  and  shall  we  cease 
to  call  a  given  nerve  action  (or  rather  its  results)  psychical, 
when  by  frequent  repetition  it  has  become  so  habitual 
that  it  no  longer  arouses  consciousness  ?  " 

Stout  says :  ^  "  Where  the  habit  is  sufficiently  formed 
to  subserve  its  purpose,  consciousness  retires  from  the 
scene,  like  an  artist  whose  task  is  done  ". 

To  this  M'Cunn  adds : '  "  This  doesn't,  however,  imply 
that  the  habit  has  become  wholly  a  thing  of  physical 
automatism.  It  would  be  a  lame  conclusion  to  prolonged 
moral  effort  that  a  habit  became  a  mere  thing  of  nerves 
and  muscles.  The  fact  is  that  the  psychical  roots  of  the 
habit  are  not  cut,  but  only  buried.*' 
Value  of  Habit       All  the  minor  moralities  of  life  may  thus  be  made 

in  Childhood. 

easy  and  habitual  to  the  child.  He  may  form  the  habits 
of  being  courteous,  prompt,  punctual,  neat,  considerate  ; 
and  practise  these  virtues  without  conscious  effort.  We 
thus  can  modify  and  add  to  the  hereditary  disposition 
of  the  child,  until  it  becomes  the  character  of  the  man. 

^  C.  Bastian,  Brain  as  an  Organ  of  Mind,  p.  523. 

*  Analytical  Psychology ,  G.  F.  Stout,  vol.  i.,  p.  265. 

•  The  Making  of  Character,  M'Cunn,  p.  43. 


CHARACTER  AND  HABIT  fl 

The  first  act  is  from  motives  in  an  undetermined 
character.  The  second  act  has  the  motive  for  it  streng- 
thened by  being  a  repetition,  until  at  length  the  motive 
becomes  unconscious,  and  forms  a  permanent  factor  in 
the  character.  Up  to  a  certain  point  our  character  is 
formed  /or  us  by  heredity,  beyond  this  it  is  formed  fy 
us  through  habit. 

Character  is  thus,  as  we  have  seen,  mainly  the  sum 
total  of  habit ;  and  as  the  Alps  are  the  sedimentary  de- 
posits of  the  silent  seas  of  the  past,  so  character  is 
formed  from  the  sedimentary  deposits  of  thousands  of 
acts  and  experiences  in  the  unconscious  past.  These 
acts  and  repetitions  arise,  as  we  shall  see,  from  our 
surroundings  and  our  ideals.  Still  we  must  remember 
that  bundles  of  habits  are  not  in  themselves  character ; 
for  this  organic  unity  and  co-ordination  is  required.  We 
must  well  understand  that  until  the  principle  underlying 
an  act  has  by  repetition  become  instinctive,  and  thus 
unconscious,  it  cannot  be  truly  said  to  form  a  part  of  our 
character.  Care  in  Latin  pronunciation  will  not  pro- 
duce care  in  cycling  in  a  careless  character,  until,  by 
repetition,  carefulness  itself  has  become  instinctive. 
Then  it  appears  in  all  pursuits   and   forms  a  part  ofHabitisa 

Spring  of 

character.  In  short,  there  comes  a  period  when  I  no  Character, 
longer  possess  a  certain  virtue,  but  it  possesses  me. 
When  this  is  so,  it  is  my  assured  property ;  and  I  can 
pass  on  to  attain  higher  forms  of  virtue,  and  it  is  thus  I 
grow  into  o  aaxfyprnv — the  perfectly  tempered  man  who  is 
the  product  of  organised  habit 

The  fixity  of  a  virtuous  disposition  which  is  tht 


7a  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

height  of  moral  character  is  the  result  of  habit,  and 
"  the  habitually  honest  man  does  what  is  right,  not 
consciously  because  he  *  ought,'  but  with  simple  satisfac- 
tion ;  and  is  ill  at  ease  till  it  is  done  "*} 

Morality  should  thus  early  in  life  be  made  a  firm 
habit,  for  indefinite  instincts  soon  cease  in  all  circum- 
stances to  be  reliable  guides,  and  require  raising  (where 
of  value)  into  definite  habits.  We  must  remember,  how- 
ever, that  "  the  establishment  of  organised  habit  is  never 
of  itself  enough  to  ensure  the  growth  of  an  enlightened 
moral  conscientiousness  "  ;  ^  for  growth,  more  than  habit, 
is  needed.  And  here  we  may  remark,  as  M'Cunn  has 
pointed  out,  that  while  moral  habits  can  be  as  freely  and 
surely  formed  as  physical  habits,  this  must  be  effected 
by  the  repetition  of  psychical  states  and  not  by  repro- 
ducing the  merely  physical  acts.  The  outward  action 
alone  will  never  form  a  moral  virtue,  nor  can  virtuous 
habits  themselves  be  merely  mechanical. 

The  connection  of  ethics  with  action  and  not  with 
theory  is  physiologically  invaluable,  as  all  acts  tend  to 
consolidate  ethics  into  character ;  and  it  is  moreover  an 
immense  gain  to  be  able  to  relegate  the  lower  actions  to 
habit,  so  as  to  be  free  to  develop  the  higher  instincts. 
The  real  value  of  the  automatic  is  that  it  liberates  the 
mind  from  lesser  things  for  fresh  conscious  processes  of 
a  more  important  nature. 

There  is,  however,  another  side  of  habit  that  we  must 
look  at  to  arrive  at  the  balance  of  truth. 

*  Herbert  Spencer,  Data  of  Ethics,  sec.  7,  p.  46. 
»  Dr.  Royce  of  Harvard,  U.S.A. 


CHARACTER  AND  HABIT  73 

The  sense  of  duty  or  "  ought "  diminishes  as  morah'ty 
is  practised.  The  first  performance  of  a  duty  is  directly 
because  of  "  ought " — the  moral  sense.  After  a  while  it 
becomes  habitual,  and  very  likely  a  pleasure,  and  at  last 
it  is  performed  unconsciously,  wholly  or  in  part.  Take, 
for  instance,  the  repetition  of  a  set  form  of  prayer  or 
saying  grace  at  meals. 

Now,  it  is  obvious  that  no  real  moral  value  attaches  Moral  Value 
to  an  action  or  even  a  motive  which  is  wholly  uncon- to  Unconscious 
scious.  As  therefore  moral  acts  become  apparently 
mechanical  habits,  they  lose  the  moral  value  that 
attached  to  them.  We  thus  see  again  that  character  as 
a  whole  lies  in  the  unconscious,  and  that  any  merit 
attaching  to  it  arises  from  the  exercise  of  the  conscious 
will  that  calls  it  into  activity.  We  will  look  at  this 
subject  further  in  Chapter  X. 

Again,  habits   may  become  chains   of  slavery  and  Dan|rers  of 
barriers  to  progress. 

The  way  stationary  lives  avoid  progressing  is  by 
doing  nothing  whatever  outside  a  fixed  circle  of  habit 
that  has  become  almost  instinctive.  We  all  have  a 
tendency  to  become  "  recurring  decimals  "  ;  for  progress 
means  effort,  whereas  habit  means  ease. 

No  character  can  be  automatic  where  there  is  any 
progress.  And  habits  need  not  be  bad  to  be  hindrances. 
Moral  habits  of  a  narrow  order  may  establish  great 
barriers  to  after  progress.  It  is  a  great  danger, 
therefore,  for  a  mind  to  become  automatic  at  a  low 
level. 

In  our  manufacturing  cities  we   are   said   to  make 


74  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

everything  but  men ;  that  is,  we  make  lives  full  of 
bundles  of  habits  at  a  low  level,  and  as  near  machines  as 
human  beings  can  become. 

On  the  other  hand,  habits  are  difficult  to  stop  when 
once  they  have  been  formed.  The  persistent  pursuit  of 
an  object  always  involves  the  danger  of  not  being  able 
to  leave  off  the  habit  of  pursuit  when  the  object  is  gained, 
as,  for  instance,  in  the  pursuit  of  riches. 

Of  course  a  bad  habit  is  a  terrible  thing  when  fixeo, 
and  the  moral  consciousness  is  soon  blunted  to  right  and 
wrong ;  so  that  a  man  may  get  such  a  habit  of  lying  or 
swearing  as  to  lose  all  sense  of  evil. 

Every  act  of  sin  makes  the  second  act  appear  less 
sinful  and  easier  to  commit.  Habit  is  thus  a  fearful 
power  when  enlisted  on  the  side  of  wrong. 

Habit  lessens  pleasure  or  pain,  and  when  fixed 
almost  abolishes  it. 

We  lose  pleasure  in  games  and  pursuits  as  soon  as 
they  become  fixed  habits,  as  with  professionals ;  and  a 
continual  sufferer  soon  complains  less  as  the  pain  be- 
comes deadened  by  continuance. 

Habit  may  induce  error,  as  at  the  beginning  of  a  new 
year,  when  for  some  time  the  old  year  continues  to  be 
written  ;  or  when  dressing  for  dinner  the  watch  is  wound 
up  as  if  going  to  bed. 

From  all  these  instances  we  see  that  habits  are  such 
great  powers  that  a  most  watchful  eye  should  be  kept 
over  their  acquisition,  at  first  by  the  parent  and  later  by 
the  individual  himself. 

We  now  turn  to  consider  the  two  means  by  which 


CHARACTER  AND  HABIT  75 

habits  are  easily  and  naturally  acquired  ;  and  the  first  is 
by  our  environment  or  our  surroundings. 

As  long  ago  as  B.C.  450  Hippocrates  believed  in  the 
influence  of  environment  in  determining  character ;  so 
that  we  are  speaking  here  of  no  new  idea. 

Life  is  indeed  the  school  of  character,  because  life  to 
each  man  means  that  with  which  he  comes  in  contact — 
his  surroundings  between  which  and  himself  there  is 
incessant  action  and  reaction. 

A  child  cannot  fail  to  bear  the  stamp  of  the  atmo- 
sphere its  mind  has  unconsciously  breathed  for  the  first 
few  years  of  its  life. 

**  Life  and  health  are  largely  acted  on  (unconsciously) 
by  agents  immaterial  and  psychical.  They  are  the 
essential  parts  of  the  education  from  which  springs  the 
character,  etc."  ^ 

"  Nothing  exerts  so  great  an  influence  on  the  psychical  Value  of 

.  Environment 

organism  as  the  moral  atmosphere  breathed  by  it.  The 
composition  of  that  atmosphere  is  therefore  of  funda- 
mental importance ;  and  this  education  is  Nature's  educa- 
tion."* 

In  a  certain  environment  all  the  weeds  of  character 
flourish,  another  develops  all  the  flowers.  If  we  cannot 
change  our  environment  when  it  is  injurious,  we  must 
definitely  resist  it,  if  we  are  to  be  saved  from  bad  habits. 

We  can  make  our  environment  as  well  as  letting  it 
make  us.  Our  rooms,  and  particularly  those  we  occupy 
most,  represent  the  characteristics  of  their  occupants. 

*  Dr.  J.  Pollock,  Booik  o/H*aZ/A,  p.  530. 

•W.  B.  Carpenter,  Mental  Physioloi^y^  4th  edition,  p.  333. 


76  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Some,  however,  construct  their  environment  out  of  all 
sorts  of  odds  and  ends  they  can  find,  like  a  caddis  worm, 
or  a  bird  when  building  its  nest ;  while  others  find  suit- 
able environments  that  fit  them,  ready  made,  like  a 
hermit  crab.  A  strong  character  shapes  its  own  environ- 
ment, a  weaker  one  is  formed  by  it.  It  is  in  early  life 
and  in  poverty  that  our  environments  are  mostly  made 
for  us  ;  in  adult  and  easy  lives  they  are  mostly  made  3}^ 
us  ;  and  in  either  case  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the 
value  to  physical  and  mental  health  of  being  in  perfect 
harmony  with  our  surroundings. 

The  family  is  Nature's  great  moral  school ;  and  real 
character  is  mostly  formed  at  home.  The  relationship  of 
husband  and  wife  is  a  powerful  former  of  character, 
especially  in  the  early  years  of  married  life.  Parents, 
not  only  mothers,  but  fathers  also,  have  immense 
influence  on  the  characters  of  their  children. 
Contrast  be-  Herbart  says  :  ^  "  If  the  life  of  a  family  is  permeated 

Life  ancTinsti-  by  a  noble  piety,  a  sincere  religious  faith  will  take  root 
in  the  heart  of  the  children.  To  the  child  the  family 
should  be  the  symbol  of  the  order  in  the  world  ;  from 
the  parents  one  should  derive  the  characteristics  of  the 
Deity.  The  child's  ideas  of  the  Heavenly  Father  are 
moulded  unconsciously  by  the  earthly  one.  The 
mother's  tender  care,  the  father's  kind  seriousness,  the 
relationship  of  the  family,  must  exist  in  all  purity  and 
worthiness  before  the  child's  ingenuous  eyes,  because  he 
judges  only  what  he  observes ;  because  what  he  sees  is 

» F.  Herbart,  Science  of  Education,  2nd  edit.,  p.  71. 


CHARACTER  AND  HABIT  77 

to  him  the  only  thing  possible,  the  pattern  for  his 
imitation." 

Other  environments  are  those  of  school,  companions 
and  friends,  locality,  country,  profession,  etc. 

We  may  note  here  the  enormous  and  well-known 
effects  that  institutions,  reformatories,  homes  (so-called), 
etc.,  have  on  the  character,  and  especially  amongst  the 
young.  We  have  elsewhere  spoken  of  the  effects  of  the 
dietaries  at  these  places ;  but  apart  from  this,  the  influence 
of  the  life,  the  routine,  the  companionships,  the  sense  of 
being  a  unit  rather  than  a  loved  personality,  have  all  the 
depressing  effects  on  character  that  shade  has  on  a 
growing  plant.  All  movements  in  favour  of  remodelling 
homes  for  children  on  the  basis  of  small  homes,  and  thus 
reproducing  natural  family  life,  are  of  the  greatest  value 
in  improving  the  character. 

A  solitary  life,  such  as  the  monastic,  is  not  good  for 
the  development  of  character,  as  it  merely  tends  to 
emphasise  the  stronger  features,  whether  of  vice  or 
virtue,  but  does  not  lead  to  growth. 

The  force  of  the  professions  on   character  is  most  Eflects  of  Pro- 

fessional  Life 

marked.     The  finished  product  differs  tn  toto  from  the  on  Character. 

raw  material.     Take  six  brothers  and  let  one  enter  the 

navy  at  twelve,  another  the  army  at  eighteen,  another 

the  law  at  twenty,  and  another  medicine  at  seventeen, 

another  a  merchant's  office,  and  let  the  sixth  loaf  about 

at  home,  and  then  carefully  analyse  all  their  characters 

at  thirty-five. 

You  will  find  the  sea  stamped  on  the  first,  seen  not 
alone  in  his  tanned  cheek  and  somewhat  rolling  gait, 


78  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

but  morally  through  and  through,  down  to  the  very 
depths  of  his  unconscious  being.  In  fact  he  himself  is 
largely  unconscious  of  how  much  he  shows  it.  You  see 
it  in  his  frank  eye,  in  his  nautical  language,  in  his 
freedom  of  speech,  in  his  code  of  morality,  in  his  virtues 
and  in  his  vices,  in  what  may  be  called  the  very  shape 
of  his  thoughts. 

The  army  man  again  will  be  quite  different  product. 
He  will  be  stiffer  and  less  easy  and  more  precise.  His 
bearing  (we  hope)  will  show  his  drill ;  but  it  is  not  his 
body  alone,  but  his  character,  his  very  being,  that  has 
been  drilled.  That,  indeed,  is  the  essential  difference 
between  the  regular  and  the  volunteer.  Both  have  got 
drilled  bodies  ;  but  the  drill  has  reached  the  character  in 
the  former,  while  the  latter  is  still  a  civilian  at  heart. 

The  barrister,  with  the  intellectual  and  casuistic  train- 
ing he  has  received,  will  doubtless  look  down  on  his 
two  brothers  from  his  forensic  height,  and  will  show  how 
his  profession  has  touched  his  character,  dut  to  a  decidedly 
less  extent  than  the  other  two,  the  environment  not 
having  been  so  constant  or  so  characteristic.  The  doctor 
will  be  more  changed  in  character  from  the  habit  of 
looking  at  people  from  the  inside,  and  the  constant 
balancing  of  cause  and  effect.  His  responsibilities  and 
the  continual  need  of  a  good  manner  will  also  have 
left  indelible  marks.  The  medical  profession  is  instruc- 
tive to  study  because  men  can  enter  it  at  any  age, 
and  it  is  easy  to  see  that  where  medicine  has  been  taken 
up  late  in  life  (after  thirty)  the  character  itself  is 
much  less  affected.    The  man  is  not  an  engrained  doctor 


CHARACTER  AND  HABIT  79 

like  the  man  who  began  at  seventeen.  The  merchant 
will  perhaps  be  least  altered  in  himself,  the  atmosphere 
he  has  breathed  being  less  specialised  ;  and  the  loafer 
will  have  steadily  deteriorated,  most  of  his  hereditary 
potentialities  being  by  now  enlisted  on  the  side  of  evil. 
So  great  is  the  power  of  our  callings  on  our  characters  ! 

Having  seen  the  effect   on  character  of  a  definite  Effects  of « 
training  for  a  definite  profession,  let  us  take  the  uncon-  man's  Ltfc  oa 

.    .  r     1  .  1.  1  .  Character. 

scious  trammg  of  character  m  an  ordmary  workmg-man 
— say,  for  example,  the  difference  between  a  gardener 
with  wages  of  i8s.  a  week  and  a  coal  miner  with  wages 
of  36s.  The  two  occupations  contrast  as  follows :  The 
first  is  safe,  the  second  dangerous ;  the  first  is  in  the 
light  and  open  air,  the  second  in  darkness  and  confined 
space ;  the  first  life  is  equable  but  poorly  paid,  the 
second  presents  violent  contrasts  but  is  highly  paid ; 
the  first  man  is  ever  with  Nature  and  studies  all  her 
harmonious  and  natural  progression  and  alterations,  the 
second  is  with  Nature,  but  cannot  see  her  or  her  opera-" 
tions,  and  regards  her  rather  as  a  dangerous  foe  to  be 
mastered.  If  two  brothers  take  up  these  two  occupa- 
tions for  twenty  years,  their  characters  will  probably  be 
formed  somewhat  on  the  following  lines :  The  gardener 
will  be  slow,  patient,  genial  and  gentle,  like  the  Nature 
with  whom  he  is  ever  in  contact.  He  will  be  careful, 
because  poor;  he  will  read  little,  because  he  reads 
Nature's  book  all  day ;  he  will  be  equable  and  com- 
paratively free  from  excesses,  because  his  life  is  free 
from  contrasts  and  dangers.  The  miner,  on  the  other 
hand,  will  have  an  uneven  character,  will  be  reckless, 


8o  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

prone  to  excesses  in  pleasure,  passion,  sport,  etc., 
because  his  occupation  and  his  life  present  the  most 
violent  contrasts  and  expose  him  to  great  dangers.  He 
will  be  extravagant  also,  because  he  is  well  paid  ;  he 
reads  more  and  is  more  discontented ;  his  home  is  more 
luxurious,  as  he  loves  to  emphasise  the  contrast  between 
it  and  his  work ;  at  times,  therefore,  he  may  develop  a 
passion  for  flowers,  exceeding  any  gardener,  because  of 
his  gloomy  toil.  His  character  is  stronger  and  more 
forcible  and  wilful  from  the  rugged  and  dangerous  diffi- 
culties he  has  daily  to  overcome.^ 
EflFectsof  Let  us  now  see  how  one  character  affects  another;  for 

on  Character,  above  all  we  are  ever  influencing  one  another,  and  our 
greatest  influence  is  that  we  exercise  unconsciously.  Our 
minds  cast  shadows  just  like  our  bodies,  and  daily  and 
hourly  those  shadows  are  falling  upon  others  for  good  or 
for  evil.  This  one  fact  alone  proclaims  the  overwhelming 
importance  of  character  in  social  life.  The  reason  we 
feel  one  man's  presence  and  not  another's  is  indeed  as 
simple  and  unerring  as  the  law  of  gravity.  A  presence 
is  felt  in  exact  proportion  to  the  strength  of  its  character. 
"  O  lole,  how  did  you  know  Hercules  was  a  god  ? '' 
•*  Because  I  was  content  the  moment  my  eyes  fell  on  him 
— he  conquered  whether  he  stood  or  walked  or  sat." 
Character  is  like  those  bodies  we  call  ferments,  which 

^  At  a  mining  village  Justice  Grantham  has  lately  spoken  of,  where 
the  scenery  is  lovely,  near  Conisbro'  Castle,  the  wages  are  high  and  the 
hours  short,  but  the  men  lead  lives  of  shameful  degradation,  drinking, 
gambling  and  neglecting  their  children.  The  material  prosperity  and  the 
moral  savagery  shatter  every  theory  of  the  elevation  of  the  people  based 
on  mere  material  good. 


CHARACTER  AND  HABIT  «I 

!i»ave  the  power  pf  inducing  changes  in  other  bodies 
without  undergoing  any  change  themselves.  Ptyalin, 
for  instance,  the  ferment  in  the  saliva,  changes  any 
g  mount  of  starch  into  sugar  without  undergoing  any 
change  itself ;  and  so  certain  characters  have  such  power 
that  in  their  presence  all  the  starch  in  a  man  disappears, 
and  sugar  takes  its  place.  And,  again,  just  as  ferments 
are  of  two  sorts,  those  that  build  up  and  those  that  de- 
compose, so  one  character  strengthens  while  ancthet 
w^eakens  and  aisintegrates  evv.ry  other  with  which  it  comes 
into  contact.  Some  men  are  like  spiritual  ozone  :  one 
breathes  a  new  life  in  their  presence.  Others,  on  the 
contrary,  are  like  germ-laden  sewer  gas :  not  only  noisome, 
but  infectious.  In  short,  like  produces  like.  Men  of 
good  principles  produce  others,  and  men  of  evil  likewise. 
Each  multiplies  after  its  own  likeness. 

"  Men  of  character,"  says  Emerson,  "  are  the  con- 
science of  the  society  to  which  they  belong.  And  to 
produce  all  this  effect  no  word  need  be  spoken,  no  deed 
done — the  presence  often  suffices." 

**  In  silent  company  with  another,"  says  Maeterlink,^ 
*'  the  character  is  often  deeply  formed.  The  truth,"  he 
adds,  "  cannot  often  be  uttered  in  words,  but  it  can  be 
learnt  in  silence," 

Having  thus  considered  a  little  the  power  of  surround-  Weais  and 

Character, 

ings,  and  of  the  influence  we  have  over  one  another,  let 
us  look  at  another  way  of  forming  good  habits,  and  that 
is  by  following  ideals. 


*  Maeterlink,  trans,  by  A.  Sutro,  Th^  T-^isure  ofth*  Humhls, 

6 


U  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Character  is  never  most  benefited  by  introspection 
and  searching  for  springs  of  conduct  in  our  unconscious 
mind  that  were  meant  to  be  left  unseen  ;  but  rather  by 
objective  methods :  just  as  facility  in  playing  the  violin 
is  not  gained  by  a  study  of  the  muscles  concerned,  but 
by  practising  music.  This  is  the  value  of  ideals,  which 
form  at  the  same  time  an  object  in  life  and  a  standard  for 
moral  sense.  The  word  "ought"  supposes  an  ideal 
standard. 

Nil  admirari,  or  the  despising  of  all  ideals,  Is  indeed 
a  doctrine  of  devils. 

A  chief  factor  in  the  development  of  character  is  the 
power  of  forming  and  following  ideals,  rather  than  the 
impulse  to  be  or  the  effort  of  becoming  better. 

It  is  the  imitation,  conscious  or  unconscious,  of  one's 
ideal  that  becomes  a  habit,  and  thus  forms  and  reforms 
and  transforms  the  character.  The  generality  of  ideals 
is  seen  in  such  common  phrases  as  "  The  dream  of  my 
life,"  "  The  expression  of  one's  ideal,"  etc 

An  anonymous  writer  in  Macfnillatiy  1882,  in  "Studies 
in  Psychology,"  notices  that  "after  being  raised  to  a 
higher  rank  (to  a  baronetcy  or  peerage)  the  whole  be- 
haviour subtilely  and  unconsciously  changes  in  accordance 
with  it ".  This  is  also  the  case  in  a  minor  degree  with 
lesser  standards  of  fashion ;  and  as  in  the  social  world, 
so  in  the  moral. 
The  Moral  The  moral  sense  cannot  act  without  some  sort  of 

Wm1L!°^"*^'  standard ;  and,  indeed,  an  ideal  is  needed  for  the  very  ex- 
istence of  morality ;  the  best  character  being  that  whert 
all  the  eoeigies  are  directed  towards  the  highest  ideals. 


CHARACTER  AND  HABIT  I3 

One's  character  becomes  similar  to  those  whom  we 
love,  admire  and  respect,  simply  because  in  trying  to  be 
like  them  we  unconsciously  form  habits  to  resemble 
them. 

Our  instincts  and  character  are  moulded  by  ideals, 
but  not  by  passing  pleasures;  indeed,  our  will  seems 
fulfilled  in  an  ideal  in  a  way  it  never  is  by  pleasure. 
This  ideal  may  not  be  a  matter  of  conscious  choice,  but 
may  grow  up  with  us  from  obscure  origin. 

The  measure  of  a  man  is  truly  the  measure  of  his 
vision,  that  is,  of  the  ideal  before  his  eye. 

"  To  have  the  eye  evil,"  says  Raskin,  "  is  more  than 
being  blind  ;  just  as  the  whole  body  being  full  of  dark- 
ness is  darkness  in  me,  and  is  more  than  my  being  in 
darkness."  Such  is  the  case  where  corrupt  ideals  fill 
the  vision. 

Loss  of  faith  in  ideals  is  also  destructive  of  character  a  lost  ideal 

is  Disastrous 

and  stops  its  growth ;  moreover,  an  ideal  not  followed  is 
soon  lost. 

The  substitution  of  an  inferior  ideal  for  a  superior  is 
the  greatest  moral  calamity  a  man  can  suffer.  We  must 
never  lower  our  standards  in  order  more  easily  to  reach 
them  ;  and,  indeed,  an  impossible  ideal  or  standard  is 
always  the  most  elevating  to  the  character.  The  im- 
possibility of  reaching  it  preserves  humility,  while  at  the 
same  time  it  ensures  constant  progress. 

Without  an  ideal  a  man  may  exist,  but  cannot  be 
said  to  live. 

The  majority  of  men  have  an  ideal  self  they  try  to 
realise.     Harmony  between  this  ideal  self  and  the  real 


84  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

self  brings  peace  of  mind,  while  discord  brings  distress 
and  remorse. 

This  ideal  self  is  a  compound  of  the  ideals  before 
the  man.  Its  main  feature  is  formed  by  the  principal 
object  for  which  he  lives,  but  in  minor  matters  standards 
of  perfection  are  also  set  up  in  deportment,  dress,  personal 
habits,  etc  Thus  the  coster  may  live  for  an  ideal  waist- 
coat or  a  barrow  drawn  by  a  donkey,  a  flower  girl  for  a 
Sunday  hat  with  real  ostrich  feathers,  and  so  on. 
Scale  of  Ideals.  The  general  ideals  before  men  are  as  various  as  their 
personality.  At  the  bottom  come  those  rare  cases  where 
the  ideal  is  absolutely  evil — where  it  is  said :  "  Evil  be 
thou  my  good  ".  Some  have  questioned  whether  such 
characters  exist,  but  of  this  we  fear  there  is  no  doubt. 

Then  come  those  with  morbid  ideals.  As  a  medical 
man  I  know  what  it  is  to  have  even  disease  made  an 
ideal. 

Then  we  enter  the  large  class  with  very  low  aim^ 
such  as  those  to  whom  money,  riches,  sensual  pleasures 
and  pleasure  generally  are  the  end  of  life. 

Of  all  such  aims  the  end  is  fixed.  There  are  two 
paths  for  every  man  to  choose  :  the  path  of  duty  or  of 
pleasure,  of  self-denial  or  of  self-gratification,  of  self- 
control  or  licence ;  and  the  one  is  the  path  of  life  and 
the  other  the  path  of  death.  It  is  very  curious,  more 
over,  to  notice  that  when  we  pursue  pleasure  we  feel  ana 
know  that  we  are  slaves,  but  when  we  pursue  loftier 
ideals  we  feel  free. 
Negative  Going  a  little  higher,  we  get  those  whose  ideal  may 

be  said  to  be  a  negative  one.     Their  object  is  "  To  do  no 


CHARACTER  AND  HABIT  85 

iiarm,"  or  **  To  pay  their  way,"  that  is,  keep  out  of  debt, 
and  with  this  their  lives  are  fulfilled. 

Another  aim  is  magnitude,  or,  as  we  say  now, 
"breaking  the  record  ".  The  ideal  is  to  be  the  largest 
grocer  or  biggest  draper,  or  the  richest  landowner. 
Akin  to  this  class,  though  distinctly  higher  in  moral 
aim,  are  those  who  would  be  best  rather  than  biggest ; 
quality  being  valued  rather  than  quantity.  The  ideal 
may  be  to  become  the  top  of  a  school  class,  the  highest 
in  rank,  the  best  cricketer  or  golf  player,  the  first  in  his 
profession,  and  so  on. 

Higher  still,  and  the  first  where  self  in  some  shape  or  Social 
form  ceases  to  be  the  direct  object,  is  the  class  whose 
ideal  consists  in  providing  well  for  their  families,  in  social 
aims,  in  utilitarianism,  in  the  greatest  good  for  the  greatest 
number,  it  being  remembered  that  "  social "  includes  both 
duty  in  social  morality  and  personal  duty,  while  the 
greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number  includes  personal 
good,  family  good,  social  good  and  universal  good. 

Above  these  again  are  those  who  pursue  abstract 
virtues,  and  amongst  them  were  the  higher  Greek  philo- 
sophers. To  these  the  ideal  may  be  duty  or  patriotism, 
or  honour  or  virtue,  or  temperance  or  justice,  or  character 
itself  as  the  end  of  life,  or  wisdom  or  truth.  With  regard 
to  these  two  latter,  it  has  been  well  said  that  "  while  the 
aim  of  education  is  wisdom,  that  of  the  wise  man  is  truth". 
Highest  of  all  we  think  are  those  most  wholly  altruistic,  Christia* 

Ideals. 

whose  ideal  is  self-sacrifice  for  the  happiness  of  others, 
and  above  all  the  pleasing  of  God  and  the  imitation  of 
Christ     We  think  that,  whether  a  man  be  a  Christian  or 


86  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

not,  he  will  agree  that  the  highest  ideal  before  a  creature 
is  to  do  the  will  of  his  Creator. 

We  can  have  noble  and  lofty  ideals  apart  from 
Christianity  :  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  we  have  the 
highest  with  it.  We  will  add  one  word  as  to  the  con- 
nection of  happiness  and  pleasure  with  ideals.  Seneca 
said  :  "  We  do  not  love  virtue  because  it  gives  us  pleasure  ; 
but  it  gives  us  pleasure  because  we  love  it".  The 
evhaifiovia  of  Aristotle — the  end  of  being — is  by  no  means 
mere  happiness.  To  pursue  happiness  as  such  is  almost 
invariably  to  defeat  one's  object.  Perfection,  not 
happiness,  is  the  end  of  life.  Nevertheless  it  may  be 
said  goodness  and  happiness  go  hand  in  hand.  Happi- 
ness indeed  is  largely  found  in  the  means  used  to  attain 
the  end  in  view.  For  instance,  if  the  object  be  to  pro- 
vide food  for  the  table,  the  sport  itself  affords  more 
pleasure  than  the  food.  Just,  then,  as  goodness  and 
happiness  go  together,  so  in  the  highest  morality  goodness 
and  wisdom  are  not  divorced  ;  the  highest  morals  go 
with  the  highest  intellects — but  the  morals  must  come 
first. 

We  have  thus  seen  in  the  brief  survey  of  the  two 
sources  of  character  we  have  traced  in  these  two  chapters 
that  the  fundamental  spring  is  undoubtedly  heredity ; 
but  that  in  it  we  get  rather  the  material  of  which 
character  is  made  than  the  character  itself,  and  that 
for  the  forming  and  moulding  of  these  tendencies,  as 
well  as  for  the  introduction  of  fresh  instinctive  principles, 
habit  is  needed.  We  have  considered  the  mighty  force 
at  our  disposal  ki  this  great  principle ;  and  have  seen 


CHARACTER  AND  HABIT  9f 

further  that  moral  habits,  voluntarily  adopted  at  first, 
become  also  fixed,  a  very  part  of  ourselves,  as  they 
become  instinctive  in  the  unconscious  mind.  We  have 
also  pointed  out  that  the  environment  around  us  and  the 
ideal  before  us,  are  the  two  means  by  which  habits  of 
thought  and  conduct  are  fostered,  to  a  large  extent 
unconsciously.  We  may  consider  then  that  thus  far  we 
have  been  occupied  with  the  formation  of  character. 
Our  next  duty  will  be  to  consider  its  growth. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH. 

Growth  and     In  the  body  wc  distinguish  clearly  between  growth  and 

Development. 

development,  or  increase  in  quantity  and  quality.  The 
former  continues  for  a  definite  period,  terminating  about 
the  twenty-first  year,  and  after  then  no  growth  takes 
place.  But  development  still  goes  on  rapidly,  and  may 
continue  (in  the  brain,  at  any  rate)  down  -to  a  very  late 
period  in  life. 

Growth  depends,  of  course,  on  food  and  exercise, 
but  they  are  not  its  sole  cause,  for  we  continue  to  eat 
and  walk  after  twenty-one,  but  no  longer  grow.  Growth 
is  due  to  an  inherent  power  in  the  body,  which  is  a  part 
of  the  mystery  of  life  itself. 

Development  is  not  a  power  or  force  in  the  body  like 
growth,  but  is  purely  the  result  of  use  and  exercise. 
"  Who  by  reason  of  use  have  their  senses  exercised  to 
discern  both  good  and  evil."  ^  An  arm  is  developed  by 
playing  a  violin,  a  brain  by  the  study  of  Greek,  both 
brain  (cerebellum)  and  body  by  bicycle-riding,  and  so 
on. 

We  do  not  see  at  present  that  we  are  in  a  position 

>  Heb.  V.  14. 
(88) 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  89 

to  draw  a  clear  distinction  between  growth  and  develop- 
ment in  character.  It  will  be  best  therefore  to  under- 
stand growth  in  this  case  to  include  development,  if 
indeed  it  does  not  wholly  consist  of  it  The  difficulty 
is  immense  in  examining  a  character  to  decide  what 
elements  are  entirely  new,  being  incorporated  by  habit, 
and  which  consist  of  hereditary  potentialities  properly 
developed.  Nor  indeed  is  the  matter  from  one  point  of 
view  of  supreme  importance  :  suffice  it  to  know  that  we 
have  these  two  springs.  We  will  therefore  turn  now 
to  consider  by  what  means  character  is  developed  or 
"grows**. ' 

We  may  remark,  first,  that  with  development  in 
character  always  goes  repression.  The  restraining  is  as 
needed  as  the  fostering.  The  one  without  the  other  fails 
to  a  great  extent  in  its  object.  Growth  of  character  in 
humanity  owes  its  almost  infinite  possibilities  to  the 
apparent  limitless  capacity  man  possesses  in  contradis- 
tinction to  the  rest  of  the  animal  kingdom,  combined  with 
the  power  of  modification  that  attaches  to  a  character 
whose  greatest  factor  is  reason,  as  contrasted  with  mental 
powers  chiefly  guided  by  instinct 

But,  in  spite  of  this,  some  people  (as  we  have  seen  in  stationary 
Chapter  VI.)  apparently  neither  grow  nor  develop.    They 
eat,  drink  and  sleep,  absolutely  free  from  the  stimulus 
of  progressive  desires — not  only  consciously,  but  in  fact. 

It  seems  incredible  that  any  can  realise  they  are 
leading  lives  at  such  a  low  level  and  be  satisfied  with 
them.  We  may  rest  assured  no  life  at  a  high  level  is 
non-progressive.    "  Is  it  possible,"  says  Shakespeare  of 


go  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

a  fool  (Parolles),  "  that  he  should  know  that  (/^.,  *  what ') 
he  is,  and  5e  that  (/.^.,  *  what  *)  he  is  ?  " 

A  thoroughly  self-indulged  childhood  with  every 
want  forestalled,  at  a  low  animal  level,  is  often  a  death- 
blow to  progress,  and  the  foundation  of  a  bad  character. 

No  character  can  be  good  that  is  not  ever  improving  ; 
and  this  involves  effort,  for  mental  struggle  is  the  first 
law  of  progress.  Where  intellect  is  deficient,  therefore, 
progress  is  necessarily  at  an  end.  Maudsley  observes  : 
"  Most  madmen  have  few  ideas  ;  most  have  simple  feel- 
ings, and  the  coarsest  desires  and  ways  ". 
How  does  How,  then,  does  character  grow,  and  how  does  it 

Character 

grow?  develop?     Character   grows  like   the  body,  mainly  by 

food  and  exercise.  Its  food  is  the  ideas  presented  to 
the  mind,  its  exercise  lies  in  directing  life  through  the 
various  circumstances  around. 

Character  is  also  developed  by  life  generally,  by 
actions,  by  principles,  by  objects,  by  changes,  by  other 
characters,  by  education  direct  and  indirect,  or  conscious 
and  unconscious,  arid  by  many  other  means. 

The  watchword  of  character  is  St.  Augustine's  famous 
ladder,  **  I  am — I  know — I  can — I  ought — I  will  "  ;  here 
we  get  successively  self-consciousness,  intellect,  free  will, 
moral  sense  and  purpose;  a  beautiful  and  natural  suc- 
cession. Progressive  movement  of  mind  is  as  essential 
to  healthy  mental  life  as  it  is  to  physical,  and  this  move- 
ment should  be  upward — altiora  peto :  though  we  are 
inclined  to  think  that  any  movement  is  better  than  none 
at  all. 

In  stagnant  minds,  as  in  stagnant  water,  everything  Is 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  91 

a  miliar,  and  everything  is  known,  for  we  are  stationary; 
in  a  moving  mind,  as  in  a  moving  river,  much  is  ever  new 
and  much  is  forgotten  (the  things  that  are  behind),  for  we 
are  ever  advancing.  Consistency  also  is  not  a  quality  of 
progressive  characters.  If  it  be  made  an  end,  there  is 
an  end  of  all  progress,  for  consistency  of  action  is  im- 
possible, as  higher  and  ever  higher  standards  of  life 
rise  up  before  us.  There  are  of  course  two  consistencies : 
there  is  the  consistency  of  my  actions  with  my  character, 
which  is  of  value ;  and  there  is  the  consistency  of  my 
present  character  or  actions  with  my  past,  and  it  is  this 
that  we  speak  of  as  a  bar  to  progress. 

Rejoice  that  man  is  hurled 

From  change  to  change  unceasingly. 

His  soul's  wings  never  furled. 

Truly  wise  we  cannot  be,  unless  our  wisdom  is  con- 
stantly developing  from  childhood  to  death. 

The  earlier  in  life  the  main  principles  of  character 
are  developed  and  fixed,  the  more  are  they  likely  to 
resist  the  stress  and  strain  of  later  years.  The  last 
principle  implanted  is  ever  the  first  to  go.  "  Nascent " 
virtues,  therefore,  recently  acquired,  should  be  guarded 
against  undue  temptation. 

A  character,  of  course,  like  a  body,  may  not  grow  Rates  of  char- 

.      -  T^  1  /•  acter  Growth. 

regularly.  It  may,  as  we  have  seen,  never  grow  from 
childhood  ;  it  may  cease  at  any  time,  and  recommence 
again  with  some  new  idea  or  ideal  after  years  ;  or  it  may 
retrogress,  and  be  ruined  or  atrophied. 

The  growth  of  character,  as  a  rule,  is  most  rapid  in 
early  years  :  it  is  most  rapid  amidst  adverse  and  chang- 


92  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

ing  surroundings:  it  is  most  rapid  when  in  absorbing 
pursuit  of  some  striking  and  loved  ideal :  it  is  rapid  when 
intellect,  emotion,  moral  sense  and  will  are  all  pulling  in 
one  direction  ;  though  sometimes  more  rapid  still  when 
emotion  pulls  the  other  way,  and  requires  to  be  over- 
come. Changing  surroundings,  personal  and  social, 
changing  standards  in  morals  and  religion,  and  changing 
objects  and  pursuits,  all  affect  character  for  better  or 
worse.  With  all  characters,  as  with  the  vegetable  world, 
there  is  a  spring-time  of  growth,  a  summer  of  flowering, 
and  an  autumn  of  fruitfulness. 

Character,  under  certain  circumstances,  may  de- 
teriorate as  rapidly  as  it  may  grow.  It  deteriorates 
most  rapidly  when  the  conscious  will,  as  well  as  un- 
conscious forces,  are  enlisted  on  the  side  of  evil,  and 
the  moral  sense  is  effectually  deadened. 

Here  we  may  point  out  a  danger ;  and  that  is,  that 
neither  character  itself,  nor  its  growth,  should  ever  be  the 
actual  aim  of  life.  Indeed,  the  aim  should  never  be 
subjective  good,  though  that  is  the  sure  result  when  the 
aim  is  objective  good.  Character  grows  most  rapidly 
when  least  occupied  with  itself.  If  our  objects  are  right, 
and  our  ideals  the  best,  there  should  be  no  needless 
anxiety  about  growth :  that  will  take  care  of  itself  In 
this  book,  however,  we  have  to  examine  much  that 
should  not  constantly  occupy  our  minds.  Many  of  the 
finest  characters  have  never  given  a  thought  to  character, 
or  been  conscious  they  have  grown  at  all.  It  is  not  the 
tall  youth,  but  the  short  one,  that  is  ever  thinking  about 
growth.     But  this,  alas !  does  not  make  him  taller. 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  93 

Good  growth,  of  course,  cannot  take  place  from  a 
poor  stock ;  and  between  the  lowest  torpid  natures  at  one 
end,  and  the  high  and  responsive  natures  at  the  other, 
there  lie  endless  varieties.  Natural  growth  of  character 
must  be  limited  by  the  heredity  and  stock ;  and  educa- 
tion is  often  blamed  for  producing  defects  which,  after 
all,  it  only  reveals.  Herbert  Spencer  observes:  "By 
no  political  alchemy  can  we  get  golden  conduct  out  of 
leaden  instincts.  But  the  instincts  can  be  changed, 
fresh  grafts  can  be  introduced  as  we  have  seen  upon  the 
stock,  the  whole  tree  can  be  trained  in  a  new  direction,  and 
golden  conduct  made  to  flow  from  a  golden  character." 

Let  us  now  consider  some  details  as  to  growth.     The  Details  of 

Growth. 

growing  itself  is  the  point  of  moral  value,  the  becoming ; 
when  we  have  "  become,"  and  continue  to  "  be  "  because 
we  "are,"  merit  as  such  ceases,  though  there  may  be 
everything  to  admire.  We  need  not  pause  to  prove  this, 
for  we  have  already  touched  on  the  necessary  connection 
of  moral  value  with  voluntary  action. 

The  more  habitual  our  virtues  the  less  conscious  are 
we  of  them,  until,  when  they  really  become  a  part  of 
our  character,  they  almost  sink  out  of  sight 

We  have  already  pointed  out  that  it  is  better  to  grow 
by  doing  good  than  to  make  cultivation  of  character  a 
direct  object.  At  the  same  time  we  should  cultivate 
honest  dealing  with  ourselves,  and  a  certain  amount  of 
introspection  is  needed  to  avoid  self-deception.  Criti- 
cism should  be  based  on  the  desire  to  discover  truth,  and 
an  earnest  care  to  be  consistent  in  thought  and  fact  A 
sound  self-critic  is  sure  to  progress. 


04  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Besides,  therefore,  the  emotions  and  will  and  intellect 
being  drawn  out  by  objective  ideals,  and  by  active  life  in 
the  pursuit  of  good,  it  is  well  that  the  attention  be  also 
kept  on  the  repression  of  evil  in  self. 

Sacrifice  is  an  essential  in  progress.  To  gain  life  we 
must  lose  it,  to  live  we  must  die.  Self-surrender  in 
obedience,  and  for  others*  good,  is  a  chief  means  by 
which  development  of  character  is  accomplished. 

Self-denial  is  a  fundamental  characteristic,  and  yet 
may  not  in  itself  be  for  good — a  money-seeker  has  inces- 
santly to  practise  it — all  depends  on  why  it  is  practised. 
Courage,  in  the  same  way,  may  be  used  for  evil  as  well 
as  good. 

Without  these  two  characteristics,  however,  self-denial 
and  courage,  the  character  will  not  progress  much  for 
either  good  or  evil. 
Divine  Dis-  Godliness   with   contentment  is  great  gain,  but  the 

content.  .  ,  ,,      •  *  «       «  • 

contentment  meant  is  rather  "with  such  things  as  we 
have  "  than  "  with  such  characters  as  we  are  " ;  and  it 
is  doubtful  how  far  "  contentment,"  per  se,  is  to  be  culti- 
vated as  a  virtue.  Truly,  it  brings  peace,  but  with  it 
stagnation,  and  there  is  a  healthy  discontent  that  is  a 
necessary  factor  in  all  progress.  The  one  who  moves  is 
ever  seeking,  and  is  never  anchored  to  what  he  has 
found.  He  is  not  yet  satisfied,  and  in  the  deepest  sense 
he  is  not  yet  content.  He  has  not  yet  attained,  he  is  not 
yet  what  he  would  be.  So  far  from  staying  morally 
where  he  is  placed,  he  is  ever  moving  from  it ;  he  does 
not  complain  of  his  condition,  but  soon  leaves  it  behind. 
He  does  not  think  of  his  progress,  but  progresses.     He 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  gS 

IS  possessed  by  humility,  and  thinks  others  better  than 
himself.  It  is  the  loftiness  of  his  ideal  that  both  inspires 
and  subdues  him.  He  is  not  a  talker,  but  a  doer  of  the 
word ;  a  silent  pilgrim  "  to  the  better  land ".  Mean- 
while his  motto  is  :  '*  Say  little,  serve  all,  pass  on  " 

And  so  I  live,  you  see, 

Go  through  the  world,  try,  prove,  reject. 

Prefer,  still  struggling  to  effect 

My  warfare ;  happy  that  I  can 

Be  crossed  and  thwarted  as  a  man. 

Not  left  in  God's  contempt  apart ; 

With  ghastly  smooth  life — dead  at  heart. 


Then  welcome  each  rebuff 

That  turns  earth's  smoothness  rough, 

Each  sting  that  bids — nor  sit,  nor  stand,  bat  go  I 

Be  our  joys  three  parts  pain  1 

Strive,  and  hold  cheap  the  strain ; 

Learn,  nor  account  the  pang ; 

Dare,  never  grudge  the  throe  I  * 

We  will  now  consider  growth  by  food  and  exercise,  Growth  by 

Food  and 

or  by  ideas  and  circumstances.  Exercise. 

The  first  great  means  of  growth  is  by  the  entrance  of 
ideas  into  the  mind.  These  may  be  introduced  consciously 
or  unconsciously.  Ideas  consciously  presented  in  the  form 
of  precepts  are  of  little  use  to  men  of  independent  mind, 
though  of  greater  value  to  dependent  spirits.  The  little 
influence  that  the  best  advice  often  has  is  well  described 
by  M'Cunn  :  ^  "  There  is  a  risk  that  every  one  incurs  who 
betakes  himself  to  the  man  of  precepts.  Nor  does  any- 
thing more  certainly  arrest  the  influence  of  good  '  advice  * 

»  R.  Browning,  "  Easter  Day  "  and  "  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra". 
*  Prof.  M'Cunn,  The  Making  of  Character^  p.  14. 


96  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

than  the  suspicion  that  it  has  been  made  up  as  a  general 
prescription.  It  is  but  human  that  the  passionate 
egotism  of  personal  trial  should  revolt  against  this  exas- 
perating procurability  of  commonplaces."  The  latter 
method  is  the  least  understood,  and  we  will  say  a  word 
or  two  about  it.  Ideas  are  presented  unconsciously  by 
suggestion ;  and  for  this  hypnotism  is  not  needed,  the 
process  may  be  quite  natural.  What  is  an  unconscious 
idea?  It  is  a  living  mental  seed,  that,  planted  in  the 
unconscious  mind,  flowers  in  consciousness.  It  is  initial 
ideas  that  "strike"  us  the  hardest  and  affect  us  most, 
and  that  is  why  all  beginnings  are  so  important.  "  Enter 
not  into  temptation,"  derives  additional  force  when  we 
regard  the  first  idea  as  the  spark  that  fires  the  train.^ 
Apperception.  With  regard  to  the  power  of  apperception  or  sug- 
gestion in  linking  trains  of  ideas  together,  thoughts 
swarm  in  our  minds  as  bees  round  a  hive,  and  when  the 
queen  thought  comes  forth  they  all  rush  around  it. 
Maeterlink  beautifully  says:^  "Tracing  the  process  of 
suggestion  in  the  brain,  on  the  quality  and  number  and 
power  of  our  clear  ideas  do  the  quality  and  number  and 
power  depend  of  those  that  are  vague?  And  hidden 
away  in  the  midst  of  these  vague  ones  may  well  lurk  the 
definite  truths  we  seek.  Let  us  not  keep  them  waiting 
too  long ;  and,  indeed,  a  beautiful  crystal  idea  we  waken 
within  us  shall  not  fail  in  its  time  to  arouse  a  beautiful 
vague  idea;  which,  lasting,  growing  old,  and  having 
itself  become  clear  (for  is  not  perfect  clearness  most  often 

^  C.  Mason,  Home  Education, 
'Maeterlink,  Wisdom  and  DesH^,  p.  tow 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  gf 

the  sign  of  decrepitude  in  the  idea  ?),  shall  also  go  forth 
and  disturb  from  its  slumbers  another  obscure  idea,  but 
loftier,  lovelier  far  than  it  had  been  itself,  in  its  sleep; 
and  thus  it  may  be,  treading  gently  one  after  the  other, 
and  never  disheartened,  in  the  midst  of  those  silent 
vaults — some  day,  by  mere  chance  (?) — a  small  hand, 
scarce  visible  yet,  may  touch  a  great  truth." 

"  It  is  the  duty  of  parents,"  as  C.  Mason  tells  us,^  "to  Value  of  icu 
sustain  the  child's  inner  life  with  ideas,  as  they  sustain 
his  body  with  food.  The  initial  idea  begets  subsequent 
ideas ;  children  must  therefore  get  right  primary  ideas 
on  the  greater  relations  and  duties  of  life.  The  destiny 
of  a  life  may  be  shaped  in  the  nursery,  by  the  reverent 
naming  of  the  Divine  name,  by  the  light  scoff  at  holy 
things,  by  the  right  idea  of  duty  a  child  gets  who  is 
made  to  finish  his  task,  or  by  the  hardness  of  heart 
acquired  through  hearing  the  faults  of  others  spoken  of 
lightly." 

We  have  little  idea  how  character  develops  by  the 
pressure  of  moral  opinions  and  current  thoughts.  One 
single  hint  or  new  idea  may  actually  influence  an  entire 
character. 

The  reception  of  new  ideas  not  only  adds  to  the 
stock,  but  modifies  the  old.  Ideas  are  living  principles 
that  act  and  react  like  chemicals  on  each  other,  producing 
fresh  compounds  in  the  mind.  But  their  force  does  not 
end  in  thought :  it  is  reproduced  in  action.  Ideas  of 
conduct  tend  to  reproduce  themselves  in  conduct    "Sow 

>  C.  Mason,  Home  EducoHon, 


g8  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

a  thought,  reap  an  act ;  sow  an  act,  reap  a  habit ;  sow  a 
habit,  reap  a  character  ;  sow  a  character,  reap  a  destiny." 
Value  of  Ideas,  again,  resemble  chemicals  in  another  respect. 

In  common  life  they  are  generally  so  mixed  and  com- 
pounded as  seldom  to  be  seen  in  their  pure  state,  in  which 
their  powers  and  qualities  are  most  apparent.  It  is  in 
this  respect  that  good  fiction  has  its  value  on  the  char- 
acter. "When  a  chemist,"  says  M'Cunn,  "wishes  to 
show  us  what  an  acid  or  an  alkali  is,  he  exhibits  it  and 
its  behaviour  under  the  enlightening  artificial  conditions 
of  experiment.  By  a  similar  artifice,  imagination  in  its 
laboratory  of  fiction  reveals  to  us  what  the  soul  of  man 
is  by  showing  how  it  thinks,  feels,  wills,  acts  under  the 
carefully  devised  conditions  of  fictitious  circumstances. 
Floods  of  light  have  been  in  this  way  let  in  on  moral 
truth.  Hence  the  wisdom  of  the  remark  that  illusion  is 
not  delusion." 

Ideas  often  thus  reach  the  mind,  when  illuminated  by 

the  electric  light  of  fiction,  that  would  pass  unheeded  in 

the  ordinary  daylight  of  common  life. 

Ideas  as  the  When  an  idea  enters  the  mind  it  grows  secretly  and 

acter.  '  silently.      It  does  not  at  once  become  a  part  of  the 

character. 

An  idea  never  adds  a  new  principle  to  the  character, 
or  permanently  changes  an  old  one  when  merely  adopted 
by  reason  ;  nor  when  acted  on  by  the  feelings ;  nor 
when  carried  out  by  the  will.  I  may  see  it  right  to 
give  a  tithe,  after  the  idea  has  entered  from  some  power- 
ful sermon,  but  I  do  not  thereby  become  generous.  Not 
until  giving  has  so  become  a  habit  as  to  be  prompted 


CHARACTER   AND  GROWTH  99 

instinctively  and  unconsciously  can  generosity  be  said 
to  form  a  part  of  my  character.  And,  curiously  enough 
it  is  then  that  merit  ceases  to  attach  to  the  principle, 
though  still  accompanying  the  act,  if  done  consciously. 

Nothing  learnt  or  taught,  therefore,  forms  a  part  of 
the  character  till  it  sinks  from  the  conscious  into  the 
unconscious. 

Ideas  may,  however,  be  presented  to,  and  yet  not  be 
assimilated  by,  the  mind. 

The  tendency  is  for  the  mind  to  grasp  new  ideas,  and 
then,  if  it  can,  it  allies  them  to  something  it  already 
possesses.      Now,   unassimilated    ideas  produce  mental  indigestible 

Ideas. 

dyspepsia  The  difficulty  or  ease  of  assimilation  depends 
on  two  factors :  the  powers  of  mental  digestion  and  the 
character  of  the  idea.  Conservative  characters  find  it 
hard  to  assimilate  new  ideas,  unless  the  connection  with 
some  part  of  their  own  creed  is  very  apparent. 

Characters  that  have  been  brought  up  in  grooves  find 
positive  pain  in  endeavouring  to  digest  some  new  ideas. 
The  difficulty  may  lie,  as  we  have  said,  in  the  character 
or  in  the  idea.  Ideas,  like  food,  either  are  heterologous 
or  homologous,  that  is,  they  are  either  unlike  the  mental 
tissues  in  their  composition,  or  they  are  like  them.  If  the 
former,  they  are  not  really  foods,  but  poisons.  Nothing 
can  nourish  the  mind  or  body  but  principles  similar 
to  those  it  already  contains.  I  cannot  repair  a  bicycle 
wheel  with  wooden  spokes,  or  a  linen  shirt  with  flannel. 
It  is  so  with  ideas,  they  are  either  utterly  foreign  to 
anything  in  the  mind,  in  which  case  they  cannot  be 
assimilated,  and   often   do  the    mind   great   injury  by 


too  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

acting  as  poison  ;  or  they  are  like  some  thought  already 
there,  and  thus  become  food. 

The  teaching  of  strange  ideas  is  thus  called  hetero- 
doxy, and  the  teaching  of  digestible  ones  might  well  be 
called  "  homodoxy  "  instead  of  orthodoxy. 

One  man's  food  is  thus  another  man's  poison,  on 
account  of  the  difference  of  character  and  education, 
ideas  nutritious  to  one  being  found  noxious  to  another. 

It  is  this  fact  that  explains  the  pernicious  effect  of 
advanced  ideas  on  simple  minds. 

A  clever  man  let  loose  to  force  his  ideas  on  untrained 
peasants  will  produce  the  severest  attack  of  mental 
dyspepsia,  and  the  suffering  will  be  great. 

I  know  one  noble-minded  lady,  full  of  fine  ideas,  who 
mated  with  a  peasant  with  the  view  of  raising  his  class. 
The  man  got  softening  of  the  brain  soon  after,  and  it 
is  by  no  means  improbable  the  disease  was  hastened,  if 
not  caused,  by  his  frantic  efforts  to  digest  the  new  mental 
food  provided  for  him. 
Ideas  must  be  In  growth  of  character  we  endeavour  to  attach  new 
ideas  to  hereditary  instincts.  Of  course  we  do  not  know 
all  the  constituents  either  of  mind  or  body  ;  and  it  may 
be  a  new  idea  will  discover  in  the  mind  some  hidden 
affinity,  of  which  we  ourselves  were  not  aware  till  it 
was  brought  to  light. 

"  I  should  not  know  I  wanted  to  covet,"  said  St. 
Paul,  "  unless  the  law  had  told  me  I  was  not  to  covet ;  " 
and  so  we  often  say  now  of  a  child :  "  Do  not  put  such 
an  idea  into  his  head". 

The  commandments  themselves  were  vain  if  we  had 


Homologous. 


%' 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  lOl 

not  a  conscience  to  respond  to  them.     "  Thou  shalt  not  ** 

has  no  meaning  unless  there  is  an  inner  voice  saying  ,...v\\  ^, 

'*  Thou  oughtest  not ".  i(  \1^^^''''' 

We  are  often  very  susceptible  to  the  opinion  of  others, 
and  weaker  characters  are  largely  formed  by  the  ideas  that 
spring  from  this  source.  Schopenhauer  traces  some  bad 
characters  to  the  effect  of  the  single  idea  of  regarding 
the  world  as  "  not  myself,"  and  all  good  as  centring  in 
the  unextended  ego.  Good  ideas  are  the  most  powerful 
prophylactic  against  evil.  M*Cunn  observes  :  "  The  best 
moral  antidote  lies  not  in  warnings,  however  particular, 
but  in  that  positive  nurture  of  character  which  is  the 
real  source  of  strength  in  the  hour  of  temptation". 

The  value  of  good  ideas  is  perhaps  most  clearly 
indicated  in  the  well-known  exhortation  :  "  Finally, 
brethren,  whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever  things 
are  honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things 
are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report,  if  there 
be  any  virtue  and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on  these 
things  "} 

In  addition  to  ideas  as  food,  we  require  circumstances  Circumstances 

as  Exercise. 

for  exercise  in  order  to  grow.     Circumstances  really  in- 
clude all  through  which  we  pass  in  life. 

Take  two  brothers,  and  let  one  be  brought  up,  say, 
as  an  officer.  Let  him  lead  a  leisurely,  well-ordered  life ; 
let  him  be  well  washed,  well  dressed,  well  fed  and  well 
cared  for  till  he  is  thirty-five.  Let  the  other  brother  live 
in  a  single  room,  with  his  wife  and  three  children,  and 

>8LP»il,Fha.hr.t. 


<  /  ioa\>.A  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 


(  /  ',  t 


.  .0   : 

,\\  follow  some  dirty,  depressing  trade,  till  he  is  also  thirty- 


^> 


^y  TX'*'.       five  ;  and  then  notice  how  far  circumstances  can  modify 
''''''y;,^^^''^ '^Ij^aracter.     The  circumstances  of  health  also  affect  the 
whole  character  immensely. 
Circumstances        After  a  time  the  same  circumstances,  continued,  fail  to 

change 

Character.  affect  character,  having  exhausted  their  power.  It  is  as 
novelties  that  circumstances  effect  the  greatest  changes. 
The  depth  of  the  impression  is  in  proportion  to  the 
amount  of  the  novelty.  A  tour  round  the  world  does 
more  for  character  than  a  tour  round  England.  Some- 
times a  change  of  circumstances  brings  out  character  in 
the  most  amazing  way.  An  idle  loafer  at  home,  the 
despair  of  all  his  friends,  is  given  a  colonial  appointment 
or  made  a  consul  on  some  frontier,  and  soon  the  world 
is  ringing  with  the  splendid  capacity  he  develops.  At 
other  times  the  reverse  is  seen,  and  a  good  but  not  a 
strong  character  is  spoiled  in  mid  life  by  reverses  it  is 
not  strong  enough  to  bear.  Still,  even  in  the  presence 
of  circumstances,  we  are  no  mere  masses  of  clay  to  be 
formed  by  them  as  they  will. 

"It  is  a  grand  error,"  says  John  Stuart  Mill,^  "to 
believe  our  character  is  formed  /or  us  rather  than  dy  us. 
It  is  formed  by  circumstances,  but  the  desire  to  mould  it 
in  any  way  is  one  of  these  circumstances."  Moreover, 
circumstances  themselves  are  often  the  result  of  our  own 
characters,  and  cause  and  effect  are  reversed. 

"Man,"  says  Carlyle,  "is  the  architect  of  circum- 
stances. He  is  indeed  often  the  creator,  rather  than  the 
creature,  of  circumstances." 

^  J.  S.  Mill,  System  of  Logic^  voU  ii.,  p.  426. 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  103 

Shocks  and  great  catastrophes  can  change  the  ex- 
pression of  character  completely ;  but  sudden  changes, 
from  their  comparative  rarity,  are,  after  all,  not  those 
which  chiefly  affect  us.  "  For  the  most  part  our  character 
is  formed,  not  by  catastrophes,  but  by  the  stealthy  and 
ceaseless  deposit  of  circumstances,  by  the  circumambient 
moral  atmosphere,  from  which  we  cannot  for  a  moment 
escape."  * 

Again,  the  same  circumstances  affect  people  in 
different  ways.  Loss  of  money  may  make  one  char- 
acter, while  easy  circumstances  may  make  another. 

There  is  one  special  set  of  circumstances,  however,  Value  of  ad- 

...  ,  1  r  1    verse  Circuni' 

on  which  we  must  lay  stress,  so  potent  are  they  lor  good,  stances. 
We  allude  to  what  are  commonly  called  the  evils  of  life : 
such  as  adversity,  failure,  loss  of  health  or  money,  dis- 
appointment, evil,  opposition  of  all  kinds,  war  and  all 
sorts  of  trials.  Character,  it  is  true,  is  formed  both  by 
friends  and  enemies,  by  success  and  failure,  by  pros- 
perity and  adversity,  by  following  good  and  resisting 
evil ;  but  it  is  the  second  part  of  each  clause  that 
calls  forth  the  nobler  qualities  and  produces  the  higher 
results. 

Strong  characters  and  Christian  characters  are  nearly 
always  benefited  by  trials,  through  when  poverty  or 
hardship  becomes  the  rule  of  life  it  loses  its  good  effect. 
Many  of  the  poor  would  develop  better  in  a  sun-bath  of 
prosperity.  Most  men  thus  reach  their  highest  develop- 
ment through  failure  or  trial :  the  prison  made  Bunyan  ; 

*  Prof.  Caird,  University  Sermons,  p.  296. 


X04  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

the  gout  did  much  for  C.  H.  Spurgeon ;  as  a  frail  body 
and  an  agonising  disease  did  for  Gordon. 

Where  the  character  is  sufficiently  noble  and  strong 
for  these  severe  lessons,  and  is  not  overwhelmed  by 
them,  they  soon  land  the  pupil  in  the  top  class. 

And  what  is  our  failure  here  but  a  triumph's  evidence 

For  the  fulness  of  the  days  ?     Have  we  withered  or  agonised  ? 

Why  else  was  the  pause  prolonged,  but  that  singing  might  issue  thence  ? 

Why  rushed  the  discord  in,  but  that  harmony  should  be  prized  ? 

Sorrow  is  hard  to  bear,  and  doubt  is  slow  to  clear. 

Each  sufferer  says  his  say,  his  scheme  of  the  weal  and  woe, 

But  God  has  a  few  of  us  whom  He  whispers  in  the  ear — 

The  rest  may  reason,  and  welcome  ;  'tis  we  musicians  know  I  > 

The  first  lesson  of  history  is  the  good  that  can  come 
out  of  evil.  The  Thirty  Years'  War  made  Germany, 
and  the  Boer  War  has  made  the  Empire.  Resistance, 
dangers,  reverses  are  a  powerful  education.  Our  initial 
misfortunes  and  the  slow  discipline  of  the  war  in  South 
Africa  have  done  much  for  our  national  character.  The 
glory  of  character  is  that  in  confronting  antagonisms  it 
can  draw  from  them  new  nobilities  of  principle.  "  No 
man,"  says  Jeremy  Taylor,  "is  more  miserable  than 
he  that  hath  no  adversity."  A  perpetual  calm  will 
never  make  a  sailor.  Self-denial  is  always  good  for  the 
character,  for  it  is  the  path  of  life.  Adversities  not  only 
help  character,  but  they  reveal  its  hidden  qualities; 
they  show  the  difference  between  the  Paris  diamond 
and  the  African,  the  pinchbeck  and  solid  gold.  They 
reveal — 

>  R.  Browning,  "  Abt  Vogler  ". 


CHARACTER  AND   GROWTH  109 

One  who  never  turned  his  back,  but  marched  straight  forward, 
Never  doubted  clouds  would  break  ; 

Never  dreamed,  though  right  were  worsted,  wrong  would  triumph. 
Held  we  fall  to  rise,  are  bafHed  to  fight  better,  sleep  to  wake.^ 

"  It  often  requires,"  says  Maeterlink,  "  a  great  sorrow  Sorrows  reach 

us  through  our 

spent  together  in  silence  to  reveal  a  man  whom  we  have  Thoughts. 
seen  for  years,  but  never  before  known"  "  Nothing 
befals  us,"  says  Maeterlink,^  "  that  is  not  of  the  nature  of 
ourselves,"  and  to  each  of  these  severe  lessons  there 
must  be  something  in  the  character  to  respond,  some- 
thing they  touch,  or  else  the  pupil  does  not  profit.  It 
all  goes  over  his  head,  or  sours  his  temper  with  the  long 
words  he  cannot  make  out  It  might  almost  be  said 
that  there  happens  to  men  only  that  they  desire.  We 
have  little  power  over  external  events,  but  much  as  to 
how  far  they  shall  become  parts  of  ourselves.  Not  a 
single  sorrow  exists  that  can  touch  us  save  through  our 
own  thoughts.  These  form,  as  it  were,  an  atmosphere 
through  which  every  external  event  must  pass,  and 
which  determines  its  character  and  effect  on  us.  The  . 
same  event  to  one  man  is  an  evil  he  deplores,  and  to 
another  a  blessing  in  which  he  rejoices,  solely  on  account 
of  the  different  minds  through  which  it  passes.  A  mind 
can  thus  be  formed  to  which  "  all  things  work  together  for 
good  ".  One  of  the  characteristics  derived  from  such  cir- 
cumstances is  fixedness.  Steadiness  of  purpose  is  always 
well  marked  under  great  pain  or  pressure.  To  keep 
head  against  a  rapid  stream  is  different  from  paddling  in 
a  pond. 

*  R.  Browning. 

*  Maeterlink,  Wisdom  and  Destiny  (A.  Sutro),  p.  31. 


fo6  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

But  there  is  another  teacher  of  a  milder  mood 
through  whom  we  could,  if  we  would,  learn  most  of 
adversity's  lessons.  Death,  grief,  trouble  teach  much; 
but  they  who  love  much  may  know  the  secrets  these 
teach  through  this  alone. 

Trials  and  distresses  are  often  needed  to  teach  us 

sympathy ;  but  love  could  (I  think)  instruct  us  without 

their  aid. 

For  life,  with  all  it  yields  of  joy  and  woe 
And  hope  and  fear — (believe  this  aged  friend) 
Is  just  our  chance  o'  the  prize  of  learning  love, 
How  love  might  be,  hath  been,  indeed,  and  it ; 

So  take  and  use  thy  work  ! 

Amend  what  flaws  may  lurk. 

What  strain  o'  the  stuff,  what  warpings  past  the  sum  t 

My  times  be  in  Thy  hand  I 

Perfect  the  cup  as  planned  I 

Let  age  approve  of  youth,  and  death  complete  the  same  1  * 

We  have  thus  considered  the  two  great  means  of 
growth,  by  food  and  exercise,  ideas  and  circumstances — 
and  especially  circumstances  that  seem  against  us — both  of 
these  being  in  the  main  educators  of  the  unconscious  mind. 

We  may  now  look  a  little  more  generally  at  the 
education  of  the  mind,  both  unconscious  and  conscious, 
as  a  means  of  growth. 
Education  of  The  end  of  all  education  most  worthy  of  the  name  is 

character,  and  for  this  natural  means  are  more  effectual 
than  artificial  and  forced  methods.  With  education  in 
the  narrow  sense  of  information,  rather  than  formation, 
the  reverse  is  true.  Natural  means  lare  useless,  and 
artificial  and  forced  methods  are  the  beginning  and  end 
of  the  system  of  all  crammers — who,  after  all,  are  a  most 

*  R.  Browning,  "  A  Death  on  the  Desert "  and  "  Rabbi  bin  Ezra  ". 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  107 

useful  body  of  men  under  the  present  senseless  regime  of 
supplying  all  our  public  services  and  most  professions. 
Among  the  principal  general  instructors  that  educate  us 
unconsciously  and  exact  no  fees  are  the  following : 
the  external  world,  from  the  stars  in  the  heavens  to  the 
daisies  at  our  feet,  change  and  novelty,  monotony 
("  blessed  be  drudgery  **),  relationships  of  life,  responsi- 
bilities of  life,  friendship  and  love,  religion,  besides  those 
we  have  already  spoken  of — ideas,  circumstances  gener- 
ally, and  adversity. 

The  use  of  others  as  a  looking-glass  for  ourselves  Is 
often  a  potent  educator  and  revealer  of  character. 

Evil  characteristics,  seen  objectively,  disgust  us,  though 
unnoticed  or  condoned  when  subjective  ;  hence  we  often 
correct  ourselves  by  the  follies  of  others. 

The  opinions  of  others,  we  have  already  seen,  have 
much  effect  on  weak  characters. 

Now  opinion  is  cruel,  and  truth  is  merciful ;  opinion 
is  worth  little,  truth  is  priceless  ;  and  yet  probably  more 
are  moved  in  this  world  by  opinion  than  by  truth, 
because  opinions  are  to  weak  characters  what  truth  is  to 
strong,  and  Carlyle  (who  ought  to  know)  says  that "  most 
men  are  fools  ". 

Amongst  the  great  unconscious  educators  our  readers 
have  been  waiting  to  hear  named  are  doubtless  the  cele- 
brated twins — Science  and  Art — which  are  so  much  alike 
that  they  can  be  hardly  told  apart,  though  when  together 
the  difference  is  clearly  discerned. 

Science  is  said  to   rouse  and  advance  people;  art  Science  and 
soothes  and  does  not  advance  them,  although  many  have  cators. 


MB  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

the  greatest  faith  in  it  as  a  civilising  agent.  Art,  indeed, 
has  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  goodness  and  morals,  and 
often  flourishes  in  a  decadent  empire,  and  with  the  worst 
vices,  though  no  doubt  Ruskin  rightly  teaches  us  such 
art  is  not  the  highest  art. 

Modem  progress  has  a  powerful  effect  on  character, 
and  we  are  all  now  busy  "  teaching  our  grandmothers," 
who  lived  in  the  dull  twilight  of  "  the  early  Victorian  era  " 
— the  fashionable  name  just  now  for  all  that  period  which 
is  old  enough  to  be  despised,  and  not  old  enough  to  be 
worshipped. 

Wireless  telegraphy,  telephony,  cycling,  the  Rontgen 
rays,  the  imperial  penny  post,  motor  cars,  bank  holidays. 
Cook's  excursions,  and  perhaps  still  more,  "  educational " 
travel  and  polytechnic  tours.  Board  schools,  and  a 
thousand  Other  novelties  all  have  a  powerful  effect  as 
unconscious  educators  of  character. 

In  women  the  effect  has  been  so  radical  as  to 
produce  what  is  described,  by  those  who  have  had  op- 
portunities of  observing  it  carefully — an  entirely  fresh 
species — under  the  simple  title  of  "  the  new  woman  " 
— a  much  shorter  and  more  intelligible  name  than 
would  be  given  to  a  new  plant  or  animal.  Modern 
circumstances  are  almost  entirely  responsible  for  this 
creation,  in  whom  it  is  said  that  the  inward  graces  of 
the  mind  more  than  compensate  for  the  occasional  lack 
of  external  attractions.  This  may  be  so,  but  we  some- 
times say  with  a  sigh,  "  The  old  is  better ".  The 
varieties  of  the  genus  vary ;  some,  indeed,  as  "  the  new 
wife,"  should  be  approached  with  caution  and  respect,  and 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  109 

are  not  everywhere  received  with  enthusiasm,  differing 
thus  greatly  from  "  the  new  nurse,"  who  comes  as  a  boon 
and  a  blessing  to  men  to  replace  the  early  Victorian 
variety — Mrs.  Gamp.  Considering  the  force  of  modern 
life  on  character  we  are  still  waiting  hopefully  for  the 
production  of"  the  new  man  "  ("  the  new  boy  "  has  already 
arrived  as  a  harbinger),  "the  new  tradesman,"  "the  new 
domestic  servant,"  and  some  others  we  will  not  name. 

Food  has  a  powerful  influence  on  character.  I  have 
studied  this  to  some  slight  extent  by  observing  orphan  and 
other  schools,  where  in  some  cases  children  are  brought 
up  mainly  on  farinaceous  food,  and  in  others  on  a  well 
mixed  diet ;  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  in  the  former 
the  character  is  slower,  more  even  and  placid,  in  the  latter 
quicker  and  more  fiery.  Certainly  physically  the  former 
are  stouter,  slower  runners,  and  are  generally  less  active 
than  the  latter  class. 

Dress  is  not  only  significant  of  character,  but,  like  so 
many  things,  acts  in  a  double  way,  and  reacts  on  character. 
People  do  try  to  live  up  to  their  "  blue  China,*'  whether 
under  this  head  they  mean  dress,  or  deportment,  or 
artistic  surroundings. 

Turning  to  conscious  education  generally,  "we  are  conscious 
finding  that  success  is  to  be  achieved  only  by  making  cwacter.  °^ 
our  measures  subservient  to  that  spontaneous  unfolding 
(unconscious  education)  which  all  minds  go  through  in 
their  progress  to  maturity  ".^ 

Wise  teacheis  thus,  instead  of  overcoming  evil  by  as* 


,  Education,  pp.  58,  59. 


ii«  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

sociating  it  with  punishment,  seek  to  draw  out  character 
by  active  pursuits  that  enlist  the  mental  faculties  in 
some  good  purpose,  and  the  evil  is  forgotten.  In  short, 
in  this,  as  in  all  else,  objective  methods  are  better  than 
subjective.  Development  and  skill  in  all  arts  and  pur- 
suits are  not  gained  by  subjective  effort,  but  objective. 
The  best  way  of  direct  education  of  character,  with  a 
view  to  growth,  is  to  put  ourselves  under  the  power  of 
good  influences,  ideals  and  habits ;  character  cannot 
actually  be  directly  educated,  but  we  can  direct  the 
forces  that  act  upon  it. 

Introspection  fostered  by  direct  education  often  en- 
tirely defeats  its  objects.  La  Bruy^re  has  shown  that 
many  men  submit  with  pleasure  to  have  their  small  faults 
pointed  out,  tacitly  assuming  they  are  credited  with  the 
greater  virtues.  If  rebuked  for  silence,  they  assume  it 
is  because  they  think  so  much  ;  if  they  are  useless  with 
their  hands,  it  is  because  they  are  so  strong  in  their 
minds  ;  if  dirty  and  untidy,  it  is  because  they  are  so 
occupied  with  much  greater  matters. 

Sometimes  education  applied  homceopathically  seems 
the  most  powerful — so  contrary  is  man.  Thus  we  are 
told  that  to  form  the  love  of  a  thing  we  must  get  satur- 
ated with  its  opposite,  while  an  evil  is  best  got  rid  of  by 
pursuing  and  practising  it  incessantly.  We  fear  many 
under  this  system  are  killed  before  they  are  cured. 

To  sum  up  :  the  result  of  true  education  of  character 
is  its  steady  growth. 

The  emotions  are  steadied,  because,  after  passing 
through  many  and  varied  circumstances,  by  the  remcm- 


CHARACTER  AND  GROWTH  111 

brance  of  past  impressions  we  learn  the  true  average 
and  value  of  events  as  they  come ;  we  also  learn  at  the 
same  time  humility  and  suspense  of  judgment. 

With  regard  to  intellect^  "  To  be  able,"  says  Sweden- 
borg,  "  to  discern  that  what  is  true  is  true,  and  that  what 
is  false  is  false  :  this  is  the  mark  and  character  of  intel- 
ligence " ;  while  the  will  becomes  the  expression  of  the 
enlarged  and  enlightened  moral  seiwe  within,  and  thus 
emotions,  intellect  and  will  combine  to  Drove  the  growth 
of  a  higher  personality. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ANALYSIS  OF  CHARACTER; 

Unconscious-  PERHAPS  in  looking  at  character  now  a  little  more 
scTousnS  and  closcly  it  Will  be  Well  first  of  all  to  consider  something 
Self-conscious-  ^^^^  ^f  j^g  relations  with  unconsciousness,  consciousness 
and  self-consciousness. 

The  order  in  point  of  time  in  which  these  appear  in 
the  child  are  as  given  above. 

As  far  as  we  can  tell,  when  a  child  is  born,  though  it 
undoubtedly  possesses  stores  of  psychic  qualities,  it  is 
wholly  unconscious  of  them,  and  even  sense  impressions 
at  first  rouse  but  the  feeblest  ideeis  :  it  has  eyes,  but  does 
not  see ;  ears,  but  does  not  hear. 

Consciousness,  however,  soon  dawns,  the  bulk  of  the 
child's  psychic  life  remaining,  however,  unconscious  and 
instinctive.  Later  on  self-consciousness  supervenes.  The 
child  at  first  makes  no  distinction  between  self  and  not 
self.  It  examines  its  limbs  as  strange  phenomena.  When 
the  conception  of  "  e^o  "  dawns  a  new  era  begins,  and 
henceforth  the  division  of**  self  "and  **not  self "  exists, 
dividing  the  world  into  that  within  and  that  without. 
Consciousness  grows  naturally  with  exercise,  and  is  not 
subject  like  self-consciousness  to  artificial  development, 

(112) 


ANALYSIS  OP  CHARACTER  113 

Self-consciousness  perhaps  culminates  with  the  completed 
physique  at  and  after  puberty.  We  have  ventured,  as 
will  have  been  observed  in  earlier  chapters,  to  speak 
distinctly  and  definitely  of  an  unconscious  mind  ;  not 
thereby  meaning  for  a  moment  a  separate  mind,  but 
rather  that  part  that  lies  in  unconsciousness.^ 

This  is  a  necessary  position  if  we  are  to  understand 
character  at  all,  for,  as  a  whole,  it  lies  habitually  in  un- 
consciousness ;  and  it  is  this,  as  we  have  observed,  that 
makes  the  difficulty  of  its  analysis. 

Let  us  consider  for  a  moment  the  conscious  and  the  The  Qualities 

of  the  Con- 
UnCOnSClOUS.  scious  and  th< 

Unconscious. 

While  the  states  of  the  former  are  ever  changmg,  the 
latter  is  a  permanent  possession.  This  is  so  true  that  if 
the  state  of  consciousness  remains  fixed,  it  soon  ceases 
to  be  consciousness.  If  I  gaze  at  the  same  object  long 
enough  I  cease  to  see  it  consciously,  or  if  I  repeat  the 
same  sentence  often  enough  I  cease  to  do  so  with  con- 
scious intelligence.  Both  conscious  and  unconscious  are, 
however,  capable  of  education,  no  education  of  the  former 
becoming  permanent  till  stored  in  the  latter. 

The  unconscious  is  the  home  of  character  and  all 
hereditary  qualities,  of  instincts  and  motives,  of  con- 
science or  the  moral  sense,  of  intuitive  perception — such 
as  axioms. 

It  is  dogmatic,  absolute,  persistent,  all-pervading,  un- 
swerving and  consistent  in  its  action. 

We  do  not  use  it ;  it  uses  us,  and  we  are  so  far  its 

^For  the  fuller  development  of  this  subject  see  Th4  Unconscious 
Mind,  A.  T.  SchofieUL 

8 


114  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

slaves  ;  as  indeed  is  obvious,  since  it  forms  the  greater  part 
of  ourselves.  We  cannot  take  up  the  unconscious  mind 
as  a  tool  as  we  do  consciousness,  but  we  can  let  it  speak 
to  us,  or  we  can  prevent  it.  We  have  no  absolute  need 
to  act  on  instinct,  and  for  a  time  the  conscious  will  can 
inhibit  the  action  or  expression  of  the  unconscious  mind. 
Yet  in  the  long  run  the  latter  will  out,  for  we  cannot  be 
always  on  the  watch,  and  a  man  shows  himself  to  be 
what  he  is  sooner  or  later. 

We  have  given  some  interesting  illustrations  of  the 
way  in  which  the  unconscious  asserts  itself  in  Tke  Un- 
conscious Mindy  to  which  we  have  referred.  Those  given 
by  Cardinal  Newman  (p.  lOo)  and  by  Hartmann  (p.  loi) 
are  familiar.  One  of  the  most  interesting  is  where  it 
is  shown  that  the  unconscious  comes  to  the  front  in 
spite  of  every  effort  at  repression  by  the  conscious.  In- 
stances are  given  on  pages  73  and  75  of  psychologists 
who  with  their  conscious  intellects  reject  with  all  the 
vigour  possible  the  idea  of  unconscious  psychical  pro- 
cesses, and  yet  in  the  same  work  they  freely  admit  them, 
and  in  one  case  even  assert  them.  The  only  explanation 
possible  is  that  the  truth  of  unconscious  mental  processes 
being  known  unconsciously  to  them,  though  refused  by 
conscious  intellect,  betrayed  itself  in  words,  and  thus 
gave  them  away. 

This  need  not  be  thought  an  extraordinary  or  far- 
fetched explanation.  Many  a  girl  shows  she  'v&  in  love 
unconsciously  in  action,  when  she  would  vigorously  and 
truthfully,  as  far  as  her  consciousness  goes,  deny  it 

The  unconscious  mind  progresses  by  conscious  and 


ANALYSIS  OP  CHARACTER  115 

unconscious  education,  the  latter  being  the  more  power- 
ful of  the  two.  In  the  unconscious  mind  you  get  an  ease 
and  accuracy  unknown  in  the  efforts  of  the  conscious, 
but  it  is  like  that  of  a  machine ;  and  in  many  ways  the 
work  done  by  the  conscious  is  of  more  value  than  that 
done  by  the  unconscious  ;  as  a  hand-made  article,  though 
the  stitches  are  not  so  regular,  is  of  more  value  than  one 
that  is  machine-made.  If  in  the  conscious  mind  you  do 
not  have  the  same  ease  and  perfection,  you  have  thought 
and  purpose. 

Now  in  the  conscious  mind  we  get  constant  change.  Value  of 

Consciottsn«si 

we  get  intelligent  action,  we  get  moral  value,  we  getandSeif- 

consciousncsSi 

freedom  of  thought  and  of  will,  we  get  responsibility,  we 
are  free  ourselves,  or  at  any  rate  feel  so.  We  have  power 
to  acquire  knowledge  at  will,  we  have  the  distinctive 
stamp  of  humanity,  and  we  know  pleasure  and  pain  and 
all  sensations. 

If  the  will  be  good,  the  life  is  noble  in  proportion 
as  it  is  lived  consciously.  It  will  surprise  some  who  have 
not  studied  the  subject  to  know  what  a  great  proportion 
of  life  is  lived,  if  not  unconsciously,  at  any  rate  in  sub- 
consciousness. 

Self-consciousness  is  a  further  development  of  mere 
consciousness.  It  is  a  new  power  that  enables  us  to 
see  and  alter  character  by  introspection.  It  can  adjust 
the  balance  between  instinct  and  reason.  It  is  a  faculty 
that  is  needed,  but  which  must  be  cultivated  sparingly. 
Like  salt,  we  could  not  do  without  it,  but  it  will  not 
support  life.  Its  absence  is  a  great  loss  to  character : 
its  presence  in  moderation  gives  dignity  and  self-respect, 


ii6  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

and  indirectly  respect  of  others.  In  excess  it  leads  to 
all  sorts  of  morbid  actions.  Introspection  may  destroy 
all  usefulness  of  character  if  carried  far. 

"  There  is  no  value/'  says  Dr.  S.  Bryant/  "  in  inward 
scrutiny  that  searches  for  roots  of  evil  that  don't  put 
forth  leaf  or  branch." 
Conflict  be-  Now,  although  character  as  such  resides  in  the  un- 

tween  Reason 

and  Instinct,    conscious,  its  activc  expression  is  in  consciousness. 

Character  has  been  described  as  "  organised  (uncon- 
scious) habit  in  recurring  situations,  and  as  the  result  of 
conscious  reflection  at  exceptional  times  ".  The  working 
of  consciousness  and  unconsciousness,  with  their  two 
qualities  of  reason  and  instinct,  is  of  great  moment  to  the 
character. 

The  union  and  harmony  of  the  two  give  unity  to  the 
eg-Oy  and  peace  instead  of  war  between  the  rational  and 
instinctive  selves.  This  is  not,  however,  always  possible. 
It  is  often  the  case  that  reason  suggests  one  course  and 
instinct  another.  If  the  question  is  a  moral  one  the 
moral  sense  must  be  the  umpire.  If  not,  the  question 
must  be  referred  to  a  triumvirate  of  intellect,  emotion 
and  moral  sense,  or  mind  feelings  and  conscience,  and 
both  sides  must  bring  up  their  arguments.  The  mind 
is  thus  often  turned  into  a  court  of  law,  with  pleaders  of 
no  small  ability  on  both  sides ;  and  finally  I  myself,  a 
compound  of  reason,  feeling  and  moral  sense,  decide  for 
or  against. 

Where  this  state  of  things  is  perpetually  recurring 


»  Dr.  S.  Bryant,  Mind,  1897,  P-  86. 


^ 


ANALYSIS  OF  CHARACTER  X17 

It  is  disastrous,  and  shows  the  reason  and  the  in- 
stincts must  have  been  trained  in  two  very  different 
schools. 

Again  wisdom  and  reason  are  not  the  same.  To  be 
reasonable  is  not  the  same  as  being  wise.  Wisdom  is 
never  attained  by  mere  reason.  Reason  knows  the 
Infinite  objectively,  wisdom  subjectively.  The  ideas  of 
reason  are  clear,  those  of  wisdom  often  obscure  and 
unconscious. 

Reason  should  never  interfere  with  instinct  need- 
lessly. Rochefoucauld  says  that  "  nothing  so  much  pre- 
vents our  being  natural  as  the  desire  to  appear  so  "  ;  in 
other  words,  naturalness,  an  unconscious  quality,  cannot 
be  shown  consciously. 

With  regard  to  responsibility,  every  man  is  responsible  Responsibility. 
for  what  he  does  wittingly,  that  is,  consciously.  But 
then  the  question  is  how  far  is  he  responsible  for  what 
he  tsP  That  is,  how  far  does  responsibility  or  merit 
attach  to  the  possession,  apart  from  the  expression,  of 
character  ?  Some  answer  that  a  man  is  not  intellectually 
responsible,  but  morally ;  but  this  is  not  an  absolute  or 
a  very  clear  distinction. 

We  should  judge  (under  correction)  that  responsi- 
bility attaches  to  that  part  of  the  character  that  we 
have  become,  or  that  we  have  added  to  the  original 
stock.  That  while  we  cannot  be  responsible  for  what 
was  originally  imparted  to  us,  we  can  be  for  that  we 
have  added  or  permitted  to  be  added  to  it,  even  apart 
from  its  expression  in  action.  The  subject  is  abstruse 
and  speculative,  and  we  will  not  pursue  it  further.     It  is 


Ii8  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

a  question  in  which  the  old  schoolmen  and  casuists  have 
revelled  with  eager  delight. 

With  regard  to  the  expression  of  character  by  will 
action  we  must  not  say  much  here,  as  it  forms  the 
subject  of  Chapter  X.  But  we  may  just  point  out  that 
the  value  and  responsibility  attaching  ever  to  the  will  is 
simply  because  it  is  the  active  e^o,  or  the  eg-o  in  action. 
It  is  free,  and  yet  it  acts  according  to  the  unconscious 
swaying  of  the  character  and  the  moral  sense  and  hidden 
motives. 

"  My  son,  give  Me  thy  heart "  means  "  Give  God  the 
seat  of  thy  motives  ".  Whoever  has  this  has  cap- 
tured the  will  ;  and  though  it  may  appear  free  and 
feel  free,  it  is  controlled  by  the  One  who  possesses  the 
heart.  "  Out  of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life,"  because 
thence  the  will  is  controlled,  and  the  will  determines  the 
conduct,  and  the  conduct  the  life  ;  so  all  is  gained  when 
the  citadel  is  the  unconscious  mind,  the  motive  is  sur- 
rendered. 

Ballast  is  as  essential  to  character  as  to  a  ship,  or  as 
a  tail  to  a  kite  ;  and  by  ballast  we  mean  that  restraint 
that  reason  places  on  instinct.  It  is  a  faculty  that  may 
be  acquired.  Without  it  the  man  is  "  unstable  as  water, 
and  cannot  excel ". 
The  Com-  We  will  now  pass  on,  after  these  general  remarks,  to 

ponents  of  .  ,  i  i       •         r      t  •  . 

Character.  Consider  the  analysis  of  character  into  its  component 
parts  as  attempted  by  one  or  two  able  men.  We  have 
already  in  Chapter  III.  referred  to  such  analysis  as 
definitely  connected  moral  qualities  with  "  organs  "  in  the 
brain,  and  then  gave  Bain's  corrected  list  of  these. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CHARACTER  119 

Dr.  Edridge  Green^  suggests  the  following  as  a  list 
of  the  components  of  character : — 

Faculties. — Acquisitiveness,  Perseverance,  Destruc- 
tiveness.  Courage,  Cautiousness,  Secretiveness,  Appro- 
bativeness,  Firmness,  Self-esteem. 

Social  Qualities,  —  Amativeness,  Parental  Love, 
Sociality. 

Moral  Qualities, — Love  of  Truth,  Spirituality,  Hope, 
Veneration,  Benevolence. 

We  give  the  list  without  further  comment. 

Samuel  Bailey*  says  the  elements  of  personal  character 
arc: — 

1.  The  predominance  of  certain  feelings  over  others 
less  marked,  united  in  infinitely  varying  proportions. 

2.  Being  able  to  perform  certain  intellectual  opera- 
tions better  than  others,  as  reasoning  or  remembering. 

3.  An  aptitude  with  regard  to  special  matters. 

4.  Strength  or  weakness  of  will, 

5.  Physical  endowments. 

This  list  is  an  agreeable  substitute  of  general 
characteristics  from  the  many-syllabled  qualities  com- 
mon to  other  lists  ;  but  to  us  we  cannot  say  that  it 
carries  conviction  or  bears  the  stamp  of  a  complete 
analysis. 

Another,  and  to  our  mind  much  more  able,  list  is  Dr.  Martin- 

T^       >»■        .  eau's  List  of 

given  by  the  late  Dr.  Martineau.  primary  Prin- 

ciples. 

"  Principles  of  character  are,"  he  says,  "  divisible  into 
two  classes — primary  and  secondary." 

*  Edridge  Green,  Memory,  p.  67, 

*  See  Sully,  The  Human  Mind^  vol.  ii^  p.  2(^ 


lap  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Primary  principles  of  character  are  natural  and 
instinctive. 

Secondary  principles  are  those  that  are  superadded 
by  consciousness  and  self-consciousness  as  means  to 
recognised  ends. 

The  list  of  the  primary  is  as  follows  : — 

1.  Propensities  (natural  forces). — Food,  Sex,  Exer- 
cise. 

2.  Passions  (natural  capacity  of  suffering  and  repul- 
sion).— Antipathy,  Fear,  Anger. 

3.  Affections  (attractions). — Parental,  Social,  Com- 
passionate. 

4.  Sentiments. — Wonder,  Admiration,  Reverence. 
All  those  primary  qualities  are  distinguishable,  and 

each  yields  (in  action)  some  sort  of  satisfaction  which  in 
itself  may  become  an  end — i.e.,  an  aim  to  produce  certain 
states  of  emotion.  These  are  the  secondary  principles, 
founded  upon  the  primary,  and  they  are  here  given  in 
their  moral  order  : — 

Malice,  Vindictiveness,  Suspiciousness,  springing  from 
the  three  primary  passions. 

These  three  alone  of  all  the  secondary  principles  have 
no  place  in  the  moral  order  of  springs  of  character,  as 
they  are  alone  utterly  bad,  being  corruptions  of  the 
passions  which  were  given  us  for  our  protection  into 
attractions  for  our  pleasure  in  that  which  is  evil 

1.  Love  of  Pleasure. 

2.  „      Food  and  Sex. 

3.  „      Exercise. 

4.  „      Money. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CHARACTER  III 

All  Springing  from  primary  propensities. 

5.  Sentimentality  (from  the  affections). 

6.  Antipathy,  Fear,  Anger,  as  secondary  qualities. 

7.  Love  of  Power. 

8.  Self-culture,  ^Estheticism,  Religious  Feeling. 

9.  Wonder  and  Admiration. 

Both  8  and  9  form  primary  sentiments. 

10.  Parental  and  Social  Affections,  as  secondary 
qualities. 

11.  Sympathy. 

12.  Reverence,  as  secondary  quality. 

For  our  own  part  we  think  that  but  little  is  gained  by 
a  general  analysis  that  is  wide  enough  to  embrace  all 
characters.  We  hope  in  the  next  chapter  to  enter  upon 
a  consideration  of  the  qualities  of  character,  and  with 
this  rather  than  with  a  complete  and  orderly  analysis  we 
must  at  present  rest  satisfied. 

The  two  sexes  present  some  differences  of  character  character  in 
and  mental  qualities  generally  that  are  fairly  constant 
and  general.     We  may  note  a  few  : — 

Intuition,  instinct  and  tact  are  far  greater  with 
women  than  with  men.  These  are  qualities  of  the  uncon- 
scious mind.  The  result  suddenly  appears  in  conscious- 
ness, the  antecedent  steps  lying  buried  in  the  unconscious. 
A  woman  will  know  instinctively  the  right  course  to 
adopt,  while  quite  unable  to  say  why,  while  a  man  is 
laboriously  trying  to  reason  out  the  "pros"  and  "cons  ". 
The  instinct,  moreover,  when  not  perverted,  is  generally 
a  true  guide,  and  can  attain  results  with  a  celerity  and 
certainty  of  unconscious  mind  action  that  far  outstrips 


m  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

the  steps  of  reason.  It  is  the  high  development  of  this 
great  gift  that  makes  women  often  such  helpful  coun- 
sellors in  cases  of  difficulty  ;  and  it  is  on  account  of  their 
right  estimation  of  its  superior  value  that  women  are 
often  so  impatient  of  argument.  Even  when  women 
take  the  trouble  to  reason  a  matter  out,  they  will  often 
reject  the  conclusions  they  arrive  at  in  favour  of  a  solu- 
tion suggested  intuitively.  This  is  one  of  the  differences 
in  the  mental  characteristics  of  the  sexes,  and  the  whole 
character  is  swayed  by  it.  Men  have  also  the  faculty, 
and  more  largely  than  they  think,  but  they  do  not  trust 
it  or  use  it  nearly  so  much.  Instinct  and  intuition  must 
of  course  carefully  be  distinguished  from  impulse,  and 
especially  as  women  are  so  often  called  "creatures  of 
impulse ".  Intuition  may  often  counsel  an  action  the 
direct  reverse  of  what  an  impulse  would  suggest. 
Special  Points  Women  again  are  keener  at  perception  ;  their  rapidity 
in  this  is  remarkable.  Houdin  has  known  ladies,  pass- 
ing each  other  at  full  speed  in  carriages,  who  coulc 
analyse  each  other's  dress,  bonnets,  shoes,  etc.,  as  to 
fashion,  colour  and  quality,  and  even  detect  the  dif- 
ference between  hand  and  machine  made  lace. 

A  slight  difference  in  dress  or  appearance  is  far  more 
readily  detected  by  a  woman  than  by  a  man. 

Women  are  much  quicker  in  thought.  They  can  use 
their  brains  more  rapidly  within  the  accustomed  range. 
Beyond  it,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are  slower. 

Women  are  easier  to  educate  and  train  than  men, 
They  are  quicker  as  well  as  more  diligent. 

They  are  more  sociable  and  domestic.     Man  may  be 


in  Women. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CHARACTER  123 

more  clubable,  but  there  is  very  little  sociability  at  clubs. 
Society  itself  is  made  and  ruled  and  maintained  by 
women,  not  men.  Sociability  is  quite  different  from 
powers  of  combination  for  specific  purposes. 

Women  are  said,  on  what  ground  we  know  not,  to 
be  more  prominent  in  politics  than  religion,  and  J.  S. 
Mill,  at  any  rate,  considered  women  better  fitted  for 
politics  than  men ! 

Women  undoubtedly  excel  in  fiction,  although  the 
greatest  novels  (in  the  sense  of  power  and  originality) 
are  written  by  men.  They  also  excel  in  acting.  The 
predominance  of  the  emotions  and  imagination  in  the 
female  sex  accounts  for  this. 

Natural  social  instincts  we  have  already  seen  charac- 
terise women.  Moral  instincts  are  also  stronger  in  them, 
and  the  whole  range  of  what  may  be  called  the  passion 
virtues.  Women  are  much  more  flexible  than  men, 
though  when  rigid  they  are  more  rigid.  A  woman  has 
greater  adaptability  in  new  surroundings  and  circum- 
stances, and  can  ascend  or  descend  the  social  scale  with 
greater  ease  and  more  perfect  steps. 

Women  are,  as  we  have  said,  more  dependent  and 
more  patient  than  men. 

In  work,  women  are  better  than  men  in  patient  con- 
tinuance, and  in  mechanical  work  at  low  pressure.  At 
the  Post  Office  women  do  light  work  better  than  men. 
Women  can  express  their  thoughts  better  and  are  better 
letter  writers  than  men.  Mechanical  inventions  are  made 
bestlby  men  and  used  best  by  women.  Women  are  more 
conventional  than  men,  and  are  readier  to  accept  arti- 


124  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

ficial  standards  of  conduct,  in  dress,  or  right  and  wrong, 
than  men. 
Special  Points         Besides  those  spheres  where  man's  strength  and  his 

in  Men. 

dominant  position,  so  long  maintained,  give  him  un- 
questioned pre-eminence,  there  are  some  things  in  which 
men  excel  the  cause  of  which  is  less  obvious.  In  art 
of  all  sorts,  for  instance,  in  religion  as  leaders  and  writers, 
in  poetry,  the  highest  type  of  genius  seems  to  be  con- 
fined to  men,  and  this  not  on  account  of  better  education 
and  surroundings,  for  it  is  a  purely  natural  product  of 
the  unconscious  mind ;  and  though  its  powers  are  con- 
sciously exercised,  their  source  is  hidden  from  their  pos- 
sessor. Men  are  essentially  more  selfish  and  egotistic 
than  women.  This  indeed  is  well  marked  throughout 
life.  A  man  far  more  constantly  talks  about  himself 
than  a  woman,  though  capable  at  times  of  sublime  un- 
selfishness. Man  is  undoubtedly  naturally  more  self- 
centred  than  woman. 

He  is  also  capable  of  combining  for  a  common  object 
for  pleasure  or  business  far  better  than  woman.  This 
is,  indeed,  one  of  the  chief  hindrances  to  advance  in 
the  female  labour  markets. 

He  is  more  violent  in  the  expression  of  his  emotion, 
and  yet  less  emotional  on  the  whole.  He  is  more  vari- 
able,— more  brilliant  in  many  cases,  more  worthless  in 
others.  He  is  more  capable  of  original  work  and 
better  able  to  work  at  high  pressure.  His  greater 
strength,  of  course,  enables  him  to  do  the  more 
Further  Con-  ardu(ius  work  of  the  world.  Women  are,  on  the 
whole,   more    impressed    by   facts    than    laws,   by   the 


ANALYSIS  OF  CHARACTER  U5 

particular  than  the  general,  by  the  concrete  rather 
than  by   the  abstract. 

Some  time  ago  fifty  students  of  both  sexes,  an  equal 
number  of  each,  were  to  write  out  the  first  hundred  words 
that  C9.me  into  their  heads,  making  5,000  words  in  all. 

Of  these  5,000,  3,000  were  found  to  be  in  pairs, 
showing  that  the  thoughts  of  the  sexes  were  more  alike 
than  different.  Out  of  the  remainder  it  was  found  that 
the  men  used  more  different  words  of  a  mere  abstract 
nature  and  largely  connected  with  the  animal  kingdom, 
while  the  words  thought  of  by  the  women  were  mainly 
concerning  dress  and  food.  The  thoughts  of  the  men 
evidently  ran  on  the  remote  and  abstract ;  that  of  the 
women  on  their  environment  and  the  concrete. 

Amongst  seven  stories,  six  by  boys  whose  ages 
ranged  from  four  to  seven,  and  one  by  a  girl  of  five,  it 
was  found,  while  the  boys'  stories  were  marked  by  action, 
slaughter,  repetition  and  want  of  coherence,  that  of  the 
girl  was  orderly,  quieter  in  tone,  with  well  arranged 
sequence,  and,  above  all,  gentle  and  showing  the  love 
of  home  life. 

Men  are  more  mobile  and  progressive,  women  more 
stable  and  conservative.  Women  are  more  plastic  within 
fixed  limits,  men  more  in  wider  limits.  If  men,  however, 
have  greater  originality,  women  have  more  common 
sense. 

Common  sense,  by  the  way,  ts  not  a  reasoned  quality, 
but  rather  a  quality  of  the  unconscious  mind  exercised 
intuitively.  The  unconscious  psychic  powers  generally 
are  larger  factors  in  the  life  of  women  than  of  men. 


IS6  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Men  think  more,  women  feel  more.  Man  specialises 
arts,  crafts,  and  professions,  being  more  original.  The 
fine  division  of  labour  is  said  to  be  a  male  characteristic. 
Looked  at  very  broadly,  passivity  characterises  women 
most,  activity  men. 

Pursuing  the  subject  yet  further  to  religion,  it  is  clear 
that  naturally  a  woman  is  more  religious  than  a  man. 
She  is  more  superstitious,  and  forms  by  far  the  majority 
of  those  who  are  swayed  by  successive  forms  of  imposi- 
tion that  have  deluded  the  credulous.  But  this  is  a 
different  matter,  and  arises  from  a  different  cause  from 
her  pre-eminence  in  true  religion.  At  the  bottom  we 
find  a  reason  in  the  altruistic  nature  jof  woman  as  com- 
pared with  man,  arising  in  a  larger  measure  from  her 
maternal  cares,  and  the  God-given  love  and  patience 
needed  to  rear  a  family.  This  predisposes  her  to  accept 
and  understand  a  Bible  whose  whole  story  is  that  of 
unselfish  love  to  the  helpless  and  the  lost. 

Another  reason  is  that  the  affections  are  more  de- 
veloped in  her,  and  love  is  more  her  life.  This  love 
rightly  directed  towards  God  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  whole 
law,  and  the  Bible  again  is  the  story  of  its  divine  ex- 
pression towards  man. 

It  is  not  a  little  remarkable  to  note  in  the  Gospel 
story  that  while  the  enemies  of  Christ  were  ever  men, 
women  were  always  His  friends  ;  and  one  feels  instinc- 
tively how  much  more  they  cared  for  Him  than  often 
His  own  disciples. 

Such  is  an  imperfect  outline  of  some  of  the  different 
characteristics  of  men  and  women  that  are  more  or  less 


ANALYSIS  OP  CHARACTER  127 

obvious.  Many  of  our  readers  may  not  even  agree  as  to 
all  of  these ;  but  we  think  the  majority  will  be  regarded 
as  correct.     We  will  now  return  to  our  general  analysis. 

States  of  mind  is  another  name  for  fixed  tendencies  States  of  Mind 
or  characteristics,  and  are  totally  denied  as  antecedent 
to    conduct    by   some    psychologists,    more    especially 
those  naturally  who  object  to  all  unconscious  mental 
processes. 

States  of  mind  produce  other  states  of  mind  or  of 
body.  One  thought  leads  to  another  by  what  is  called 
apperception.  The  powers  of  association  in  apperception 
are  great  enrichers  of  character.  The  whole  process  is 
unconscious,  but  affects  the  entire  life.  The  words 
home,  mother,  nursery,  childhood,  God,  mean  in  after 
life  pretty  much  what  was  impressed  unconsciously  in 
suggestive  ideas  in  childhood.  One  of  the  greatest 
blessings  of  a  good  character  is  the  character  of  the 
apperceptions  acquired.  The  secret  of  a  good  memory 
is  by  using  the  power  of  apperception  in  the  relation  of 
ideas,  and  not  by  mere  repetition. 

Sometimes  apperception  leads  us  astray,  as  when  a 
town  child,  seeing  a  pot  of  maiden-hair  fern,  called  it  a 
pot  of  green  feathers. 

Apperception  requires  time  to  perfect.  In  the  con- Apperception, 
scious  mind  there  may  be  two  or  three  clear  ideas  (it 
cannot  hold  above  six  at  a  time),  while  in  the  unconscious 
mind  may  lie  a  number  of  associated  ideas  (as  in  an 
ante-chamber)  ready  to  be  ushered  into  consciousness. 
The  more  intensity  in  the  ideas  and  the  more  time  given 
them,  the  more  associations  unite  with  them.     We  have 


m8  springs  of  character 

given  a  beautiful  description  of  this  process  by  Maeter- 
link  in  the  preceding  chapter. 

Age  affects  character.  The  old  and  experienced 
are  more  steady  than  the  young,  and  the  temperament, 
moral  and  physical,  is  less  easily  altered.  Character, 
when  consolidated  and  formed,  becomes  an  organic 
entity.  The  many  qualities  that  enter  into  it  are  like 
the  chemical  elements  in  a  compound,  they  form  in- 
separable parts  of  the  whole.  This  we  will  speak  of 
later  more  in  detail. 

The  mind  when  formed  is  no  mere  bundle  of  associa- 
tions, but  reaches  Mr.  Stout's  state  of  "  noetic  synthesis  " 
or  has  this  organic  character. 

An  organised  mind  is  not  controlled  by  impulse  and 
association,  but  groups  all  new  facts  in  accordance  with 
settled  plans  and  interests. 

Turning  now  to  varieties  of  character,  we  may  begin 
at  the  bottom  with  those  that,  as  we  say,  have  no  char- 
acter, i.e.,  are  of  such  a  weak  and  superficial  nature  as 
to  be  incapable  of  being  inspired  with  ideals,  so  that 
nothing  is  very  clearly  impressed  or  expressed  in  their 
life. 

Ruskin  fears  this  condition  is  creeping  upon  our 
nation.  He  says:^  "  I  felt  with  amazement  we  are  all 
plunged  into  a  languid  dream.  Our  hearts  fat,  and  our 
eyes  heavy,  and  our  ears  closed,  lest  we  should  see  with 
our  eyes,  and  understand  with  our  hearts,  and  be  healed.' 
That "  life  itself  should  have  no  motive,  here  is  a  mystery 

^jf.  Ruskin's  Works,  vol.  i.,  p.  134. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CHARACTER  129 

indeed  ".  And  yet  elsewhere  he  draws  a  more  hopeful 
picture  of  our  countrymen.  "  The  modern  English  mind 
has  this  much  in  common  with  the  Greek,  that  it  intensely 
desires  all  things  :  the  utmost  completion  or  perfection 
compatible  with  their  nature."  ^ 

Next  above  these  of  no  class  we  get  men  of  inter- 
mittent inspiration,  who  occasionally  reveal  signs  of 
character,  but  are  still  too  vague  to  classify. 

At  the  other  extreme  we  get  the  genius,  which  is  as  Mixtures  and 

Compounds. 

much  beyond  classification  as  these  are  below  it.  The 
more  ordinary  characters  have  been  grouped  in  various 
ways.  Adopting  the  language  of  chemistry  we  may 
divide  them  into  mixtures  and  compounds.  A  mixture 
is  where  two  or  more  ingredients  are  mixed  in  various 
proportions,  and  still  retain  their  original  qualities ; 
in  a  compound  the  ingredients  chemically  unite  so 
as  to  form  a  fresh  body.  Air  is  a  well-known  mixture 
of  the  two  gases,  oxygen  and  nitrogen,  in  varying  pro- 
portions, and  either  can  be  separated  from  the  other. 
Water  is  a  compound  of  the  two  gases,  oxygen  and 
hydrogen,  which  are  so  chemically  united  as  to  lose  their 
identity  and  form  a  liquid.  In  a  "mixed"  character 
you  get  the  Jekyll-Hyde  type,  that  is  a  man  who  is 
different  characters  at  different  times,  according  to 
which  ingredient  or  side  of  the  mixture  is  uppermost  or 
active  at  the  time.  This  type  is  common  and  well 
known,  and  the  various  and  ever  contradictory  sides  of 
character  displayed  by  the  same  individual  are  often 
startling. 

*  J.  Raskin,  SUmei  of  Venice^  vol.  ii.,  chap.  vL,  pp.  11,  is. 
9 


130  SPRINGS  OP  CHARACTER 

A  "  compound  "  character  is  of  a  much  higher  type ; 
in  it  the  different  ingredients  have  had  sufficient  likeness 
or  have  been  so  carefully  blended  that  a  stable  com- 
bination is  the  result,  and  the  action  of  the  person  is 
uniform,  and  you  always  **  know  where  to  find  him  *', 
You  can  rely  on  his  acting  in  such  and  such  a  manner. 
You  are  not  startled  and  sometimes  shocked  at  finding 
Mr.  Hyde  at  home  when  you  call  on  Dr.  Jekyll. 

It  is  interesting  to  see  that  often  the  fires  of  adversity 
and  trouble  and  sorrow  have  the  power  to  fuse  mere 
mixtures  into  combinations,  and  produce  out  of  a  fickle 
and  uncertain  mixture  a  stable  and  harmonious  com- 
pound. I  think  this  is  one  of  the  commonest  ways  in 
which  adversity  "  improves  "  people.  It  is  not  only 
that  the  "  dross  "  is  burnt  away,  but  that  the  qualities 
that  remain  learn  to  act  together  in  the  stress  of  war 
in  a  way  they  never  could  in  the  piping  times  of 
peace. 

Compound  characters  themselves  may  be  divided 
into  (i)  the  well-balanced — qualities  blended  more  or  less 
evenly  ;  (2)  the  single-minded — qualities  blended,  leav- 
ing one  conspicuous  trait  that  characterises  the  whole. 
Again  we  may  say  that  all  men  are  either  (i)  lovers  of 
freedom  or  idealists,  i.e.,  with  a  mental  or  psychical 
bias  ;  or  (2)  lovers  of  pleasure  or  sensationalists,  t,g,, 
with  a  materially  physical  or  sensuous  bias.  The  former 
are,  as  a  rule,  the  more,  and  the  latter  the  less  moral, 
and  are  respectively  altruistic  and  egotistic.  The  latter 
generally  predominate,  inasmuch  as  characters  are,  as  a 
rule,  compounded  of  self-regard,  tempered  with  benevo- 


ANALYSIS   OF   CHARACTER  131 

lence,  whereas  they  should  be  love  tempered  with  self- 
regard. 

Another  classification  we  may  name  falls  under  three 
heads.  These  are  the  blind,  the  seeing,  and  the  seeing 
and  doing.  Perhaps  the  best  threefold  grouping  is  those 
characters  where  will  predominates,  where  emotion  rules, 
and  where  intellect  guides.  The  first  are  energetic, 
but  not  distinctively  sympathetic  or  wise.  The  second 
are  inactive,  but  credulous  and  sanguine.  The  third  are 
thoughtful,  abstracted  and  clever,  leading  a  reticent  life 
with  little  emotion.  Sometimes  we  get  a  rare  com- 
bination in  right  proportions  of  all  three.  Such  a  char- 
acter may  not  be  outwardly  attractive,  but  its  inward 
worth  can  never  be  concealed. 

Emerson  says :  "He  who  aims  high  must  dread  an 
easy  home  and  a  popular  manner.  Heaven  sometimes 
hedges  a  rare  character  about  with  ungainliness,  as  the 
burr  protects  the  chestnut."  On  the  other  hand,  super- 
ficial characters  are  often  the  most  attractive.  The 
qualities  that  are  the  most  showy  are  often  on  the  surface, 
and  of  little  intrinsic  worth.  The  scientific  man  is  the 
practical  embodiment  of  an  intellectual  nature,  while  the 
artist  (in  music  or  painting)  represents  the  one  whose 
feelings  are  in  advance  of  his  thoughts,  and  who  has 
quick  mental  emotions. 

Memory  varies  immensely  in  people,  and,  in  children  Memory  and 

,    ,-         -  ,       ,  .  .  t         ,      Character. 

especially,  has  no  doubt  some  connection  with  the 
character. 

A  so-called  good  or  naughty  little  child  may  depend 
for  its  character  rather  on  its  memory  than  its  morals. 


132  SPRINGS   OF   CHARACTER 

Some  forget  pain  so  readily  that  they  do  the  same  thing 
at  night  for  which  they  were  punished  in  the  morning. 
Others  remember  both  commands  and  penalties  so  well 
that  they  never  commit  the  same  fault  twice.  The 
former  class  are  ever  sinning  and  repenting. 

The  motor  force  that  expresses  character  is  the 
motive.  Motives  are  what  move  the  will,  and  thus  show 
character  in  conduct.  The  motive  is  the  moral  element 
in  voluntary  action,  and  its  determining  cause. 

Some  characters  are  so  characterless  that  they  appear 
purposeless,  and  no  motive  of  action  can  be  traced. 
There  is  more  hope  even  of  a  man  with  a  bad  purpose 
than  of  one  with  none  at  all ;  with  the  latter,  as  we  say, 
there  is  nothing  to  work  on.  Some  men  are  like  floating 
straws  carried  haphazard  on  the  current  of  life,  sad  or 
bright  according  to  what  chances  to  befal  them.  Others 
there  are  who  influence  and  brighten  all  that  touches 
them  with  the  fixed  purpose  of  their  inward  life. 
Maeterlink  compares^  the  two  lives  to  a  mountain  stream 
and  a  canal — the  one  turned  aside  by  every  obstacle,  de- 
layed, winding,  useless,  though  perhaps  picturesque ;  the 
other  controlled  by  wisdom,  of  great  use,  and  over- 
coming all  obstacles  in  its  straight  course. 

Motives  should  not  be  artificial,  but  should  be  natural, 
and  in  any  case  express  the  self — 

"  To  thine  own  self  be  true, 

And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day, 

Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man." 

The  springs  of  action  do  not  often  divide  into  good  and 

'  Maeterlink,  Wisdom  and  Destiny  (A,  Sutro),  p.  26, 


ANALYSIS  OF  CHARACTER  133 

bad,  but  into  better  and  worse.  Few  actions  are  the 
result  of  a  single  motive,  but  each  is  rather  the  resultant 
of  several,  being  characterised  by  the  strongest. 

A  right  motive  by  no  means  implies  a  wise  act.  We 
are  all  familiar  with  foolish  people  who  "mean  well," 
and  whose  motives  are  beyond  criticism. 

Principles  determine  the  right  of  the  act  or  character 
— consequences  determine  the  wisdom  of  the   act  o 
conduct. 

In  speaking  of  good  and  bad,  we  only,  as  we  have 
so  often  said,  attach  moral  value  to  the  voluntary  acts. 
Moral  and  immoral  only  relate  to  conscious  purpose, 
hence  it  is  not  strictly  accurate  to  speak  of  moral 
instincts,  for  these  are  unconscious.  The  same  instincts 
swayed  by  new  motives  of  action  may  become  moral  or 
immoral  accordingly. 

It  is,  however,  difficult  to  analyse  motives,  or  even 
to  classify  them. 

The  moment  we  try  to  bring  a  spring  or  a  motive 
into  consciousness  it  shririks  in  size  and  importance.  It 
is  always  greater  than  can  be  expressed  in  words.  A 
man  makes  his  motives,  not  motives-  the  man,  though 
they  reveal  him — self  is  not  caused,  but  causal. 

Motives  may  be  classed  as  selfish  or  egotistic,  unselfish  Egotistic, 

...  ....  XT        ,  .        ,  ,       r  Altruistic  and 

or  altruistic,  and    religious.      Huxley,    m    his   famous  Religious 

T-k  /^     r  Motives. 

Romanes  lectures  at  Okford,  laid  down  that,  whereas  the 
first  was  the  law  of  all  physical  progress,  the  second  is 
the  law  of  all  psychic  advance  ;  in  other  words,  the  body 
advances  by  looking  after  Number  One,  the  soul  by 
caring  for  others.     From  this   Leslie  Stephen,  in  his 


134  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Science  of  Ethics,  entirely  dissents,  tracing  both  to  egotistic 
motives.  The  third  and  highest  class  of  motive,  when 
pure  and  true,  is  the  noblest  source  of  action. 

Motives  might  also  be  classed  as  intellectual  and 
emotional.  Prudence,  or  the  interested  motive  of  good 
conduct,  is  a  type  of  one  ;  sympathy,  or  the  disinterested 
motive  of  good  conduct,  a  type  of  the  other. 

Duty  as  a  motive  simply  means  obedience  to  the 
moral  sense  within,  whether  the  duty  be  to  self,  or  to 
others,  or  to  God. 

So  far  we  have  considered  character  analytically,  and 
glanced  at  its  varieties  and  its  motives,  and  we  will  now 
close  with  a  few  words  on  pleasure  and  pain,  as  motives 
and  objects,  before  passing  on  to  consider  the  qualities  of 
character. 

Pleasure  is  said  to  be  an  exaltation  and  stimulation 
of  emotion — pain  a  depressor. 

Increased  capacity  for  pleasure  means  also  increased 
capacity  for  pain,  although  an  emotional  temperament 
feels  pleasure  more  than  pain.  So  universal  are  the 
effects  of  pleasure  and  pain  that  it  seems  evident  they 
probably  rest  upon  some  common  physical  basis. 

With  regard  to  their  position  as  influencing  character 
Bentham  says  :  "  Nature  has  placed  mankind  under  the 
government  of  two  sovereign  masters.  Pain  and  Pleasure. 
It  is  for  them  alone  to  point  out  what  we  ought  to  do, 
as  well  as  to  determine  what  we  shall  do."  But  then 
we  must  remember  Bentham  was  a  great  sensationalist, 
a  modern  Epicurean  in  principle,  though  certainly  not  in 
practice. 


ANALYSIS  OF  CHARACTER  135 

A  system,  however,  that  makes  pleasure  itself,  indi- 
vidual or  universal,  the  end  of  life  is  not  truly  moral. 
"  Even  expediency,"  says  Coleridge,  "  is  the  anarchy 
of  morality." 

A  moral  character  does  not  pursue  pleasure,  but 
takes  it  as  it  comes,  and  in  the  most  natural  way 
possible. 

Fortunately  it  is  true  that,  though  pleasure  should  not 
be  an  object,  it  is  often  associated  with  virtue,  and  wrong- 
doing with  pain.  Taking  pleasure  in  a  virtue  does  not 
lessen  its  value,  but  enhances  it  with  the  perfect  man, 
to  whom  perfect  right  is  perfect  happiness. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  in  the  unconscious  mind 
there  is  ever  a  strong  instinct  to  seek  pleasure  and  avoid 
pain,  but  we  are  here  speaking  of  conscious  aims  and 
objects 

Now,  pleasures  and  pains  are  by  no  means  fixed  Varying 

Sources  ol 

entities,  but  depend  themselves  entirely  on  the  character  Pleasure 

'  ^  ^  and  Pain. 

of  the  individual,  no  two  agreeing  on  the  list  of  the  two. 
Publicity  is  a  source  of  the  greatest  pleasure  to  one  man, 
agony  to  another.  A  good  dinner  is  a  keen  pleasure 
to  some,  a  source  of  weariness  to  others.  There  is  no 
doubt  the  loftier  the  character  the  higher  are  what  are 
classed  as  pleasures,  and  vice  versd. 

It  is  also  true  that  the  greater  the  wealth  and  the 
easier  the  circumstances  the  less  pleasure  is  found  in 
them.  The  pursuit  of  any  single  pleasure  invariably 
ends  in  disappointment.  Perhaps  a  healthy  frugal  life, 
in  medium  circumstances,  with  a  good  character  and 
high  aims,  on  the  whole  ensures  the  greatest  pleasures; 


136  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Neither  poverty  nor  riches  seem  to  go  with  much  enjoy- 
ment, as  the  wise  man  found  out  long  ago. 

Goethe,  with  all  his  prosperity  and  riches,  states  that 
he  had  not  five  weeks  of  genuine  pleasure  in  his  whole 
life ;  and  the  Caliph  Abdalrahman  said  that  in  fifty 
years  he  had  had  only  fourteen  days  of  pure  happi- 
ness. 

The  character  of  a  man  may  be  fairly  judged  by  his 
pleasures,  which  always  harmonize  with  it.     The  mor 
unselfish  a  nature   is  the  greater   is   its  capacity  for 
pleasure. 

As  we  have  seen,  where  an  ideal  at  which  the  life 
is  aimed  is  really  loved  and  followed  with  the  affections 
as  well  as  the  intellect  and  will,  intense  pleasure  is  the 
result  of  its  pursuit.  Indeed,  life  itself  becomes  one  long 
pleasure,  where  the  highest  aims  are  followed  with  a 
whole  heart. 

In  this  analysis  of  character  we  do  well  to  remember 
the  words  of  Aristotle :  ^  "  We  do  not  engage  in  these 
inquiries  merely  to  know  what  virtue  is,  but  to  become 
good  men". 

^  Aiistotle's  Ethics,  chap,  xi.,  2,  p.  x.    (See  also  Epictetus,  Enck,,  514 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  QUALITIES  OF  CHARACTER. 
We  will  devote  this  chapter  to  a  consideration  of  the  The  Value 

consists  of 

various  ingredients  or  characteristics  of  character.     The  Proportions  of 

Ingredients. 

value  of  character,  curiously  enough,  does  not  depend 
entirely  on  what  qualities  are  contained  in  it,  but  also 
upon  the  proportions  in  which  they  enter  into  it,  in  order 
to  compose  the  **  noetic  synthesis  "  of  the  whole.  Hydro- 
gen and  oxygen  will  never  make  water  unless  there  are 
exactly  two  parts  of  hydrogen  to  one  of  oxygen.  It  is 
this  question  of  the  infinitely  varying  proportions  of  the 
various  elements  that  go  to  make  up  an  ordinary  charac- 
ter that  renders  the  analysis  of  the  most  complicated 
organic  compounds  mere  child's  play  in  comparison  to 
the  analysis  of  the  most  commonplace  character. 

It  is  quite  impossible  for  any  mental  chemist  to  say 
of  what  elements,  and  in  what  proportions-,  any  given 
character  is  compounded ;  and  a  brief  and  serious  con- 
sideration of  these  difficulties  will,  I  think,  lead  any  one 
to  understand  that  it  is  impossible  at  present  to  found  a 
true  science  of  character,  or  to  make  any  ultimate  analysis 
of  it. 

In  connection  with  the  great  fact  of  the  value  of  pro-  Weii-baianced 

nit''  1.1  Characters. 

portions,  we  find  that  it  is  generally  vaguely  recognised 

(137) 


138  SPRINGS   OF  CHARACTER 

in  our  current  expressions :  such  as  "  a  well-balanced 
character,"  "a  one-sided  character,"  or  "a  level-headed 
man".  Cranks  and  eccentrics  and  "hobbyists"  and 
faddists  may  all  have  good  characters,  but  they  are 
essentially  ill-proportioned,  and  therefore  of  little  value. 

The  first  meaning  of  StKacoa-vvij  as  understood  by 
Plato  is  not  justice,  but  the  equal  balance  of  the  different 
factors  of  character. 

Rationality  and  sanity  depend  on  all-round  views — 
cm  seeing  things  from  a  general  standpoint  (which  is  of 
course  the  combination  of  various  standpoints),  and  not 
being  wholly  absorbed  by  a  single  aspect. 

Such  rational  characters  affirm  much  and  deny  little, 
knowing  that  we  are  generally  right  in  what  we  affirm 
and  wrong  in  what  we  deny.  Truth  is  so  many-sided 
that  they  who  have  seen  what  different  aspects  it  may 
wear  from  various  points  of  view  know  the  force  of  this. 
But  they  who  have  only  one  standpoint,  and  observe  that  a 
certain  object  appears  round,  are  not  content  with  saying 
it  is  round,  but  must  deny  that  it  is  square,  and  quarrel 
with  any  who  assert  this.  One  can  always  rightly  affirm 
the  truth  of  what  one  sees  and  knows,  but  to  deny  there 
can  be  anything  else  is  to  say  one  knows  the  thing  or 
matter  completely  and  perfectly.  The  fact  is  that  on 
Truth  is  greater  earth  we   cannot   co7nprehend  truth.     At   most  we  ap- 

than  we  are.  ,        r  .  11  .  ^t^       1      1 .1        1 .    < 

prehend  m  part  and  know  m  part.  Truth,  like  light,  is 
one,  and  is  white  ;  but  passing  through  the  prism  of  the 
finite,  truth  becomes  split  up,  like  light,  into  many 
coloured  rays — violet,  indigo,  blue,  red,  etc.  The  man 
who   discovers   the   red    ray   is  so   fascinated   with    its 


THE   QUALITIES   OF   CHARACTER  139 

beauty  that  he  constitutes  himself  its  champion,  and 
declares  that  red  is  truth,  and  truth  is  red  and  nothing 
but  red ;  and  he  becomes  a  bitter  antagonist  of  another 
seer,  equally  limited  in  thought,  whose  path,  having 
been  illumined  by  a  green  ray,  proclaims  henceforth 
that  truth  is  green  and  nothing  but  green.  It  is  sad  to 
think  that  these  two  doughty  champions,  both  valiant 
fighters  for  different  aspects  of  the  one  truth,  may  not 
become  reconciled  until  the  diverging  rays  become  again 
absorbed  in  infinity,  and  the  light  that  is  above  the  bright- 
ness of  the  sun  reveals  to  their  astonished  gaze  that  truth 
itself  is  neither  red  nor  green,  but  white.  The  man  who 
takes  the  widest  views  is  always  the  one  who  makes  the 
most  moderate  statements,  and  the  strongest  characters 
are  generally  the  simplest  in  speech ;  the  feeble  en- 
deavouring to  conceal  their  weakness  by  the  strength, 
and,  sometimes,  profanity  of  their  language.  This  is  one 
reason  why  weak  young  men  are  so  given  to  swearing 
and  superlatives. 

Emerson  says,  referring  to  the  balance  of  common  Harmony  and 

_,,  .         .    ,  /. ,  .  Common 

sense :  "  There  is  a  certain  wisdom  of  humanity  common  sense. 
to  all  men  ".  The  "  sweet  reasonableness  "  of  Matthew 
Arnold  still  better  describes  the  quality  we  are  dwelling 
on.  "  Let  your  moderation  be  known  unto  all  men  " 
perfectly  expresses  the  idea  of  a  well-balanced  character 
in  New  Testament  language.  It  is  the  curbing  of  in- 
stinct by  wisdom  that  governs  destiny.  Just  as  a  circle 
is  the  most  perfect  figure  in  geometry,  so  is  a  character 
perfect  in  proportion  as  it  is  circular  in  form.  All  square 
characters  have  angles,  and  all  lopsided  characters  are 


140  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

uneven.  A  good  man  !s  a  symmetrical  man,  whose 
powers  are  all  harmonious.  The  more  you  strike  him, 
the  fuller  the  chord  you  get  out  of  him  ;  and  there  are 
no  discords.  It  is  the  presence  of  this  harmony  that 
distinguishes  the  "man  of  character"  from  the  "man  of 
qualities"  only.  It  is  this  harmony  that  the  Greek 
philosophers  ever  regarded  as  the  essence  of  virtue. 
Turning  to  the  character  of  our  Saviour  as  the  most 
perfect  representation  of  the  highest  ideal,  we  find  that 
in  the  striking  symbolism  of  the  Old  Testament  it  is 
represented  by  "fine  flour  mingled  with  oil/'  which 
apparently  would  convey  the  idea  of  perfect  uniform 
excellence  and  evenness,  no  single  grain  being  larger 
than  another,  pervaded  throughout  by  the  Holy  Spirit, 
of  which  oil  is  the  well-known  figure. 

Overgrown  powers  on  any  one  side  of  the  char- 
acter dwarf  and  starve  the  others ;  as  Lord  Bacon, 
for  example,  with  his  hypertrophied  intellect  and  his 
atrophied  moral  nature.  If  we  take  a  circle  to  repre- 
sent perfection  in  character,  we  may  be  sure  that  if  we 
see  a  bulging  on  one  side,  that  is,  predominance  of  some 
characteristic,  there  must  be  a  corresponding  flattening 
or  deficiency  on  another  side.  We  all  have  the  defects 
of  our  virtues  in  this  sense. 

A  man  cannot  be  specially  strong  all  round.  There 
is  even  the  positive  and  negative  side  both  to  virtues 
and  vices.  A  drunkard  is  not  only  a  drinker  to  excess 
(positive  vice),  but  he  is  not  a  temperate  man  (negative 
vice).  A  philanthropic  man  not  only  does  not  hate  his 
neighbour  (negative  virtue),  but  loves  him  (positive  virtue). 


THE  QUALITIES  OF  CHARACTER  141 

We  can  thus  express  any  vice  or  virtue  either  in  its 
own  positive  terms,  or  in  negative  terms  of  its  opposite  : 
for  all  have  opposites.  The  practical  remark  we  wish 
to  make  on  this  is  that  to  eradicate  or  overcome  a  vice 
it  is  not  enough,  according  to  the  Divine  Code,  and 
according  to  the  highest  ethics,  to  practise  its  op- 
posite negative  virtue.  Every  vice  has  its  antiphonal 
virtue,  which  should  be  positively  practised.  As  in 
war,  an  attack  should  not  be  met  with  a  mere  defence 
(negative),  but  with  a  counter  attack  (positive).  In 
hatred  it  is  not  enough  not  to  hate,  we  should  love ; 
he  that  steals  is  not  only  to  steal  no  more,  but  to  give 
to  him  that  needeth ;  corrupt  communications  are  not 
only  to  cease  out  of  the  mouth,  but  that  which  is  good 
is  to  proceed  from  it  j  we  are  not  only  not  to  be  drunk 
with  wine,  but  are  to  be  filled  with  the  Spirit.  Evil 
habits  are  best  overcome,  not  by  mere  resistance,  but 
by  the  vigorous  formation  of  the  opposite  virtuous  habits. 

Agfain,  this  balance  of  which  we  have  spoken  involves,  The  Relative 
at  any  rate  in  humanity,  a  relative  value  to  each  quality  iota 
rather  that  an  absolute. 

The  absolute  is  the  infinite;  all  with  us  is  relative. 
We  can  seldom  indeed  absolutely  affirm  or  deny  the 
right  or  wrong  of  our  actions.  In  most  cases  it  is  a 
balance,  and  an  adjustment  and  relative  values ;  and 
in  the  presence  of  a  better  and  a  worse,  the  better  must 
ever  be  the  right  to  us.  In  practice  the  answer  to  the 
question.  Which  is  right  and  which  is  wrong  ?  may  be 
*'  Either,"  "  Both,"  or  "  Neither  '\ 

The  result  practically  is  that  a  mixed  character  which 


I4S  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

has  pairs  of  tendencies  directly  opposed  to  each  other 
must  have  a  fixed  predominance  of  one  of  each  pair  to 
produce  consistency  of  conduct.  Those  who  have  them 
in  such  equipoise  as  to  act  on  each  alternately  are  ever 
unstable  and  the  sport  of  circumstance. 

To  have  Jekyll  and  Hyde  alternately  inhabiting  the 
one  man  is  monstrous,  though  not  uncommon.  The  one 
or  the  other  should  rule  and  keep  its  opposite  in  abey- 
ance ;  where  this  is  not  done  conduct  appears  opposed 
to  character,  and  two  sorts  of  conduct  are  ever  due,  of 
course,  to  a  double  character. 

We  will  now  consider  the  question  of  self  and  selfish- 
ness in  the  balance  of  character.  "  Faith  in  self,"  says  Dr. 
S.  Bryant,^  "  and  self-confidence  is  the  salt  of  character.'* 
Self-interest  is  not  selfishness.  Selfishness  is  self-grati- 
fication at  the  avoidable  expense  of  others, 

"Each  mind,"  says  James,*  "must  have  a  certain  mini- 
mum of  selfishness  in  the  shape  of  instincts  of  bodily 
self-seeking  in  order  to  exist." 

Love  of  self  is  assumed  in  the  New  Testament.  It 
is  found  in  the  golden  rule  "to  do  unto  others  as  we 
would  they  should  do  to  us,"  and  also  in  a  remarkable 
passage  in  Ephesians,  v.  28. 

True  self-love  is  as  far  from  egotism  as  from  altruism. 
There  is  no  real  antagonism,  in  one  sense,  between  egotism 
and  altruism.  The  latter  is  merely  the  extending  of  the 
thought  of  self  so  as  to  embrace  wife,  children,  friends 
and  country,  and,  in  Christianity,  one's  enemies.    The 

^  Dr.  S.  Bryant,  Studies  in  CkaracUr,  p.  g^ 
^Vf,  JamcB,  Psychology,  p^ig^. 


THE  QUALITIES  OF  CHARACTER  143 

enlarging  of  self  thus  forms  altruism,  until  it  may  embrace 
humanity  ;  and  one  may  thus  continue  to  satisfy  egotism 
with  what  is  regarded  as  absolute  unselfishness.  On  the 
other  hand,  egotism,  wrongly  used,  may  prove  a  swamp 
in  which  the  higher  qualities  are  all  lost.  Love  may  be 
narrowed  into  mere  self-love ;  justice  may  be  perverted 
into  insistence  on  one's  own  rights  alone.  "  The  faculty 
of  tender  emotion,"  says  Bain,  "  may  all  be  centred  in 
self."  Egotism  may  avail  itself  of  the  principal  function 
of  our  generosity. 

Self-conceit  and  self-consciousness  are  forms  of  ego-  Exaggerated 

Virtues. 

tism,  and  are  merely  potential  virtues  spoiled  through 
exaggeration.  The  virtue  they  distort  is  self-respect. 
These  two  particular  characteristics  are  common  faults 
with  young  men  when  passing  through  the  first  of  their 
three  phases.  The  first  phase  is  the  wearing  of  magni- 
fying glasses,  when  everything,  including  the  value  of 
themselves,  is  magnified.  The  next  is  the  wearing  of 
"  diminishing  "  glasses,  when  everything  is  played  out 
and  worthless,  and  nil  admirari  is  the  attitude  ;  and  the 
third  is  when  glasses  are  put  aside,  and,  for  the  first 
time,  life  and  all  things  are  seen  as  they  are. 

Another  balance  we  must  strike  is  between  the 
intellectual  and  the  emotional.  We  are  accustomed  to 
think  much  more  of  the  heart  than  the  head,  because  of 
the  supposed  warmth  of  the  former,  and  the  coldness  of 
the  latter.  But  if  emotions  are  deeper,  intellect  is  higher, 
and  the  mountain  is  necessarily  colder  than  the  valley. 
Intellect  and  morab  may,  and  often  do  go  together,  as 
we  have  seen  \  and,  on  the  other  hand,  a  warm  heart  is 


144  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

by  no  means  a  synonym  for  a  good  character.  To  exalt 
either  at  the  expense  of  the  other  is  to  lose  in  character ; 
nevertheless  it  is  by  virtue  of  our  reason  that  we  are  dis- 
tinctively human,  while  it  is  our  instincts  and  emotions  that 
link  us  with  the  lower  creation.  It  is  in  this  sense  that 
consciousness,  in  the  light  of  which  reason  is  exercised, 
is  nobler  than  unconsciousness,  from  the  depths  of  which 
our  instincts  spring. 

Even  here,  however,  we  must  guard  our  statements  ; 
for,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  subtle  connection,  of 
which  we  shall  speak  in  Chapter  X 11 .,  between  the  in- 
stinctive moral  sense  within  and  the  Creator,  that  makes 
it  speak  from  a  higher  level,  and  with  greater  authority 
than  even  the  voice  of  reason. 

That  character  is  best  and  most  perfect  when  a  good 
intelligence  is  joined  to  a  warm  heart,  and  the  stream 
of  emotion  is  controlled  by  wisdom.  It  is  this  I  think 
that  makes  humour  such  a  "  saving  grace  ".  A  character 
with  no  sense  of  humour  is  essentially  deficient.  It  is  a 
peculiarly  rational  quality,  and  is  generally  present  in 
a  well-balanced  mind.  It  is  due  to  the  co-existence  of 
two  points  of  view  at  the  same  time,  whose  incongruity 
causes  the  humour.  Dr.  Jackson  thinks  it  is  by  the  con- 
current action  of  both  sides  of  the  brain.  It  is  said  to  be 
the  combined  action  of  enthusiasm  and  rationality — in 
other  words,  the  emotions  and  the  intellect,  the  unity  of 
the  two  currents  causing  the  ripples  of  laughter. 

Turning  now  for  a  moment  to  another  quality  of 
character — truthfulness — we  find  a  subject  full  of  com- 
plexity.    It  is  most  difficult  to  speak  of  truth  considered 


THE   QUALITIES    OF  CHARACTER  145 

as  a  balance  and  a  compromise ;  we  shall  touch  on  it 
as  a  virtue  a  little  later  on. 

We  must  always  be  as  truthful  as  possible  ;  even  if 
we  are  not  to  be  truthful  at  all  costs.  At  any  rate  we  are 
never  to  compromise  truth  from  self-interest.  Motives 
are,  however,  hard  to  analyse.  We  cannot  define  moral 
motives  with  precision,  nor  press  them  absolutely  ;  they 
must  be  followed  and  practised  in  the  light  of  common 
sense. 

A  certain  compromise  of  truth  is  involved  in  answer- 
ing "  yes"  or  no  "  to  doubtful  questions  about  matters 
which  are  partially  right.  So  long  as  the  answer  given  is 
understood  by  the  hearer  to  be  only  true  within  limita- 
tion no  harm  is  done  ;  and  this  is  the  case  where  one 
person  of  average  intelligence  speaks  to  another. 

To  speak  the  truth  three  things  are  required  :  one's 
words  and  actions  must  represent  one's  thoughts  ;  they 
must  represent  the  facts,  and  they  must  convey  the  right 
meaning  to  the  hearers.  When  the  Chinese  are  told  the 
blessed  dead  are  clothed  in  white,  and  are  placed  at  God's 
right  hand,  that  does  not  convey  the  truth  to  the  hearer, 
though  it  does  to  the  speaker ;  for  to  the  Chinese  white 
is  the  colour  of  mourning  and  the  symbol  of  death,  and 
the  right  hand  is  not  the  place  of  honour. 

If  a  real  deliberate  suppression  of  full  truth  be  ever 
required  by  higher  interests,  pain  at  the  needed  com- 
promise must  and  should  be  felt  by  a  truthful  character. 
Such  occasions  will  occur.  Of  course,  what  we  call  truth 
is,  after  all,  generally  relative  with  us  and  seldom  absolute, 

unless  dealing  with  what  are  called  "axioms"  or  "truisms". 

10 


M« 


SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 


Self-respect  and  self-esteem,  as  we  have  seen,  are  good 
qualities,  but  not  self-righteousness,  self-congratulation, 
self-depreciation,  or  self-approbation. 

With  self-respect  should  go  self-doubt,  self-criticism, 
and  humility.  These  are  the  proper  complements,  and 
preserve  the  balance. 

Motives  and  appetences  may,  as  we  have  seen,  com- 
bine or  conflict.  It  is  best,  of  course,  when  they  combine  ; 
it  is  more  common  for  them  to  conflict ;  for,  disguise 
it  as  we  will,  we  are  all  potential  Jekyll  and  Hydes  : 
the  doctrine  of  two  natures  is  not  only  found  in  Scrip- 
ture. Many  men  are  two  entirely  different  beings  when 
drunk  and  sober  ;  many  lunatics  who  have  lost  the  com- 
bining power  of  common  sense  display  two  characters  so 
different  that  one  cannot  believe  them  to  be  the  same 
people.  Stevenson's  romance  wakes  an  echo  in  the  mind 
of  every  reader.  We  have  in  each  "  an  old  man  "  who 
"  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of  God,  neither,  indeed,  can 
be  "  ;  an  old  heathen  epicurean,  a  traitor  ever  ready  to 
respond  to  temptation  and  evil  suggestions ;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  we  all  have  a  God-given  moral  sense, 
and  those  who  are  Christians  have  in  addition  a  new 
motive  of  life  and  new  principle  so  great  that  it  is 
characterised  as  a  new  birth,  a  new  beginning.  The 
conflict  is  described  by  St.  Paul  in  the  most  graphic 
way,  which  could  well  furnish  a  text  for  Stevenson's 
lay  sermon. 

"  I  know  that  in  me,  that  is,  in  my  flesh  (my  carnal 
disposition  unguided  by  moral  sense),  dwelleth  no  good. 
.  .  .  For  the  good  that  I  (the  higher  nature)  would,  I 


THE  QUALITIES  OF  CHARACTER  147 

(the  active  will  or  e£^o)  do  not,  but  the  evil  which  I  (the 
higher  nature)  would  not,  that  I  (the  lower  nature)  do. 
Now,  if  I  (the  lower  nature)  do  that  I  (the  higher  nature) 
would  not  it  is  no  more  I  (the  eg-o,  the  true  selO  that  do 
it,  but  sin  (the  lower  carnal  self,  here  deemed  to  be  selQ 
that  dwelleth  in  me."^ 

That  is,  my  higher  self,  my  new  self,  the  self  em- 
powered and  enlightened  by  God's  Spirit,  and  by  the 
moral  sense,  is  now  to  me  the  true  e^o ;  and  any  actions 
that  are  done  without  its  consent  are  not  my  actions,  but 
the  actions  of  a  lower  principle ;  which,  though  I  have 
had  it  all  my  life,  I  now  refuse  to  recognise  as  a  part  of 
my  personality;  but  regard  it  as  a  foreign  body  that 
gives  me  great  trouble,  and  that  I  would  fain  get  rid 
of. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  clear  that  the  lower  nature,  psycho- 
logically and  positively,  forms  a  part  of  the  character; 
and  the  only  practical  way,  and  the  way  laid  down  by 
St.  Paul,2  to  prevent  its  activity  is  never  to  let  the 
conduct  be  guided  by  or  be  the  expression  of  these  lower 
principles,  so  that  they  are  "  as  dead,"  t.g.y  in  operation, 
and  by  degrees  become  atrophied  by  want  of  use. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  a  persistent  virtuous  life  does 
weaken  the  hold  of  the  lower  appetites  and  passions. 

The  qualities  of  a  sound  character  generally  are  as  Qualities  of « 

r^il-v.,.«  .  sound  Char- 

follows  : —  acter. 

I.  Intellectual  activity. 

a.  „  docility  and  humility. 

3.  Reverence  for  truth. 

4.  The  will  to  know,  or  energetic  pursuit  of  truth. 

>  St.  Paul,  Rom.,  chap,  vii.,  ver.  18-20.         '  St.  Paul,  Rom.  vi. 


148  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

With  regard  to  good  qualities  we  must  remember 
we  have  besetting  virtues  that  may  need  repressing  as 
well  as  besetting  sins.  Candour,  benevolence,  humility 
and  love  itself  often  require  moderation  in  their  exercise. 

Vicious  instincts  themselves  may  not  be  the  perver- 
sion or  disorder  of  a  good  character,  but  the  expression 
of  the  normal,  healthy  (bad)  character  of  the  man,  just 
as  different  breeds  of  animals  (^.^.,  dogs)  have  different 
instincts,  but  all  equally  natural.  Reason  alone,  the 
distinctive  quality  of  our  humanity,  gives  the  power  to 
lead  consciously  evil  lives,  in  which  case  it  is  necessarily 
divorced  from  morality. 

Criminals  have  often  abnormally  clever  reasoning 
powers,  but  all  work  for  evil,  because  the  moral  sense 
is  deficient,  the  instincts  vicious,  self-control  weak,  and 
self-indulgence  strong. 

We  will  not  dwell  further  on  generalities,  but  proceed 
to  enumerate  in  detail  some  of  the  leading  qualities  of 
which  character  is  compounded.  We  fear  it  will  be  little 
more  than  a  barren  list,  as  a  discursive  treatise  on  the 
virtues  and  vices  of  mankind  would  be  both  wearisome 
and  useless  ;  indeed  we  have  some  hesitation  in  inserting 
this  list  at  all.  However,  as  we  have  already  given 
some  lists,  made  by  recognised  authorities,  we  may 
perhaps  now  enumerate  some  of  the  commoner  qualities 
that  make  up  human  nature. 

We  will  class  them  in  the  natural  order.  First  into 
the  two  great  orders  of  GOOD  and  BAD.  Each  of 
these  falls  into  the  divisions  Personal  and  Relative. 
The  Good  Personal  qualities  make  two   sub-divisions. 


THE  QUALITIES  OF  CHARACTER  X49 

Moral  and  Non-moral  (as  distinguished  from  immoral), 
5uid  the  Moral  falls  into  two  sections  of  Positive  and 
Negative.  The  Relative,  both  in  good  and  bad  qualities, 
may  be  in  connection  with  others  or  with  God.  The 
whole  scheme  therefore  stands  thus : — 


(a.  Positive — 16  examples. 


.  Moral 
I.  GOOD— A.  Personal  -[  y^.  Negative— 10  examples. 

Non-moral — 20  examples. 


^  ,  ^.  To  others— 31  example 

B.  Relative   ' 


u. 


To  God — 7  examples. 
II.  BAD — A.  Personal — 30  examples. 
B.  Relative— 27  examples. 

I.  Qualities  of  Character — GOOD. 
A.  Personal. 

a.  Moral. — a.  Positive. — Purity,  Hope,  Good  Temper,  List  of  Per- 

.««<•  j-^t  ....  ,/.  -sonalQualitiet 

Self-respect,  Prudence  (this  is  the  contracted  form  of 
providence,  and  means  foresight),  Wisdom,  Self-develop- 
ment, Perseverance,  Firmness,  Rectitude,  Self-esteem, 
Peace,  Humility,  Sense  of  Beauty,  Admiration,  Cheerful- 
ness. This  last  is  not  only  a  source  of  great  enjoyment, 
but  a  great  safeguard.     It  wears  well  and  rests  the  mind. 

p.  Negative. — Self-denial,  Self-preservation,  Cau- 
tion, Secretion,  Carefulness,  Temperance,  Reserve, 
Self-restraint,  Sobriety,  Self-control. 

Witji  regard  to  this  last  we  must  say  one  word. 
Self-control,  self-denial,  and  self-restraint  may  be  de- 
scribed as  the  re-action  of  moral  ideas  and  ideals  upon 
impulses  and  instincts.  Self-control  always  refers  mainly 
to  control  over  the  lower  self  Man  alone  can  control  his 
instincts  and  cultivate  his  own  powers. 


I50  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

The  lack  of  self-control  leads  to  defective  quaiines, 
which,  if  allowed,  spoil  the  whole  character  and  mar  tnc 
life ;  unchecked  irritability  of  temper  thus  spoiled  Burke. 
Systematic  self-control  soon  makes  one  master  ol  ones 
self. 

d.  Non-moral  (as  distinguished  from  immoral). — 
ConficiGnce,  Simplicity,  Common-sense,  Energy,  Dili- 
gence, Industry,  Amativeness,  Fear,  Wonder,  Wit, 
Humour,  Matter-of-factness,  Enthusiasm,  Romance 
(these  two  are  invaluable  ingredients  in  the  character  of 
childhood  and  youth,  both  lessening  with  advancing 
years),  Imitation,  Timidity,  Imagination  (this  is  auto- 
matic and  is  unconscious  memory  chiefly ;  it  is  the  free 
play  of  thought  deriving  its  ideas  from  the  stores  of 
the  unconscious  mind).  Love  of  Power,  Knowledge, 
Intelligence  (the  essentials  of  which  are  discrimin^tLn, 
retention  and  identification).  Intellectual  culture,  it  must 
be  noted,  has  little  to  do  with  the  moral  character. 

B.  Relative. 

of  Relative  ^.  To  Others  (my  neighbour).— Im^^  (the  greatest  of  all), 
luaiities.  LoYingkindness,  Righteousness,  Gentleness,  Sympathy, 
Compassion  (these  two  are  not  the  same  :  the  former  is 
an  hereditary  natural  quality  largely  dependent  on  the 
power  of  imagination),  Sincerity,  Patriotism,  Gene- 
rosity, Benevolence,  Hospitality,  Unselfishness,  Altru- 
ism, Self-sacrifice  (this  virtue,  the  expression  of  altruism, 
is  strongly  developed  in  some  altruistic  natures  and 
curiously  absent  in  others).  Long-suffering,  Patience, 
Uprightness,  Straightforwardness,  Meekness  (this  may 


ist 


THE  QUALITIES  OP  CHARACTER  151 

be  natural,  or  acquired  as  the  result  of  a  deeper  know- 
ledge of  one's  self,  or  objectively  by  contrast  with 
greater  men  or  with  God),  Honesty  (perfect  intellectual 
honesty  is  one  of  the  rarest  of  mental  characteristics), 
Charity  (or  almsgiving),  Indignation,  Anger,  Justice 
(charity  is  less  than  justice ;  both  should  go  together — 
fellow-feeling  with  fellow-seeing).  Courtesy,  Deference 
(the  compliments  of  self-respect).  Goodness  of  heart 
(**  an  innate  quality  of  mind  "  (A.  Bain).  Real  goodness 
consists  in  feeling  a  personal  gain  in  the  realisation  of 
any  good,  anywhere,  to  any  one),  Truth  (Truth,  it  may 
be  noted,  is  rather  a  controller  of  action  than  a  spring  of 
it),  LoYC  of  Approbation,  Friendliness  (sociability),  LoTe 
of  Children. 

d.  To  God. — ReTerence,  Faith,  Spirituality,  Love  to 
God,  Obedience,  Devotion,  Conscientiousness. 

II.  Qualities  of  Character — BAD. 
A.  Personal. 

Vanity,  Pride  (vanity  craves  for  the  esteem  of  others,  Ust  of  Bad 
pride  relies  on  its  own),  Love  of  Pleasure,  Selfishness, 
Sensuality,  Carelessness,  Foolishness,  Impurity,  Self- 
indulgence,  Cowardice,  Senselessness,  "  Yisionariness," 
Discordancy,  Impatience,  Egotism,  Bad  Temper,  Miser- 
liness, Unstableness,  Recklessness,  Apathy,  Self-conceit, 
Self-righteousness,  Ennui  or  Want  of  Interest,  Impru- 
dence, Impulsiveness,  Despondency,  Laziness,  Fickle- 
ness, Waywardness,  Stupidity. 


15a  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

B.  Relative. 

Malice,  Yindictiveness,  Dishonesty,  Suspicion,  Hate, 
Rage,  Lying,  Quarrelling,  Thieving,  Killing,  Cruelty, 
Brutality,  Slandering,  Backbiting,  Injustice,  Rudeness, 
Deceitfulness,  Irreverence,  Callousness,  Hardhearted- 
ness,  Shiftlessness,  Faithlessness,  Irritability,  Treachery, 
Impudence,  Arrogance,  Affectation  (which  Locke  calls 
the  lighting  of  a  candle  to  our  defects). 

We  attach,  as  we  have  said,  no  special  value  to  this 
list  It  is  not  scientific  or  exhaustive,  and  probably  no 
two  will  agree  that  every  quality  is  placed  under  its 
right  head.  Its  survey,  and  the  consideration  that 
probably  not  one-fourth  of  the  qualities  of  character  find 
a  place  in  it  at  all,  may  enable  one  to  understand  the  com- 
plexity of  a  compound  into  which  any  of  these  elements 
(or  simple  compounds)  may  enter  in  endlessly  varying 
proportions.  And  even  then  we  have  not  reached  the 
expression  of  character.  For  this  we  must  set  over  this 
compound  a  moral  sense  compounded  of  endless  moral 
principles  acting  according  to  a  standard  that  varies  from 
year  to  year,  and  sometimes  from  day  to  day,  according 
to  the  various  lights  by  which  it  acts. 

And  yet  all  this  is  not,  as  might  be  thought,  a 
description  of  chaos,  but  of  character  t 


CHAPTER  X. 

CHARACTER  AND  THE  WILL. 
It  may  be  remembered  that  we  devoted  Chapters  V.  and  The  Main. 

spring  of 

VI.  to  investigating  the  two  springs  whence  character  Character, 
flows,  and  we  mentioned  the  use  of  the  word  "spring"  in 
another  sense,  not  as  a  source,  but  a  force,  the  considera- 
tion of  which  we  would  reserve  for  this  chapter.     The 
mainspring  of  the  expression  of  character  is  the  will. 

We  shall  consider  first  of  all  the  freedom  of  the  will, 
which  includes  the  whole  question  of  moral  responsibility; 
and  then  its  effect  on  character.  Its  relation  to  morality 
will  come  next,  and  finally  its  expression  in  action. 

All  our  readers  must  be  aware  of  the  endless  discus-  is  the  Wffl 

free? 

sions  that  have  raged  about  the  question  whether  the 
will  be  free  or  not,  resembling  in  their  persistent  character 
the  eternal  disputes  in  theology  as  to  whether  man  is 
responsible  or  God  sovereign.  The  answer  in  each  case 
is  that  "  both  are  true  ".  Here  is  an  instance  of  the  value 
of  affirmations  over  denials.  Assert  the  will  is  free  and 
man  responsible;  but  don't  deny  it  may  be  controlled 
and  God  sovereign.  Or  we  may  change  the  assertion 
with  equal  truth,  but  |must  never  deny  what  appears  to 
be  the  incompatible  opposite,  for  we  are  small  and  our 

(153) 


154  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

mental   capacity  limited,  but  truth  and  God  are  great 

and  infinite. 

The  will  is  free.  There  can  be  no  morality  without 
freedom  of  will,  because  there  can  be  no  responsibility. 
Nothing  less  is  required  and  nothing  more  is  needed  than 
our  own  personal  freedom  and  responsibility  in  order  to 
build  up  personal  character. 

Free  will  and  Divine  foreknowledge  cannot  clash, 
though  to  human  logic  apparently  incompatible,  for  they 
are  two  parallel  lines  that  never  meet. 

The  freedom  of  will,  moreover,  is  always  consistent 
with  the  Divine  foreknowledge  of  action  ;  and  if  of 
Divine,  then  of  any  other  knowledge  as  well.  Because 
a  certain  action  can  be  predicted  it  does  not  prove  it  is 
not  a  free  action. 

To  be  morally  and  practically  free  one  must  be  able 
easily  to  resist  all  instinctive  and  unconscious  impulses. 

We  may  be  free,  and  yet  it  may  be  quite  certain  what 
use  we  shall  make  of  our  freedom.  There  can,  of  course, 
be  no  movement  of  will  without  a  sufficient  exciting 
cause,  but  we  may  know  perfectly  well  in  what  direction 
this  exciting  cause  will  act. 

While,  therefore,  we  are  literally  and  absolutely  free 
in  theory,  there  are  laws  of  character  as  irresistible  as  the 
law  of  gravitation.  And  in  this  lies  the  importance  of 
character — that  while  I  am  free  to  form  it,  to  re-form  it, 
and  to  transform  it  as  I  like,  and  have  abundant  power 
available  to  do  so,  when  I  have  formed  it,  I  have  freely 
imposed  conditions  myself  on  my  own  free  will. 

Though  a  man  may  be  free  to  go  wrong,  in  fixed 


CHARACTER  AND  THE   WILL  155 

characters  it  is  practically  impossible  in  certain  directions. 
Of  course,  this  remark  is  equally  true  with  regard  to  right 
doing,  though  in  neither  case  is  the  force  of  character 
absolute. 

John  Stuart  Mill  observes^:  "A  man  feels  morally 
free  who  knows  he  is  master  of  his  habits  or  temptations. 
To  be  completely  free  we  must  have  succeeded  in  the 
effort.  Hence,  none  but  one  of  perfect  virtue  is  com- 
pletely free  " — and  yet,  as  we  have  seen,  such  an  one  is,  to 
a  great  extent,  under  the  power  of  virtue  instead  of  vice. 
When  we  cease  to  be  slaves  of  sin,  we  are  described  as 
slaves  of  God,  and  yet,  at  the  same  time,  we  are  morally 
free. 

Virtue  often  has  a  tremendous  conflict  to  attain  this  virtue  is  Free 
freedom,  or  this  possession  of  the  e£-o.  The  Homeric  enslaves, 
conflict  is  described  in  full  by  St.  Paul,  whose  profound 
introspection  exceeds  that  of  most  men,  as  we  have  seen 
in  Chapter  IX.  (vzWe  Rom.  vii.).  Freedom  is  certainly 
linked  in  that  passage,  and  throughout  St.  Paul's  writings, 
with  virtue.  "  Stand  fast  in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ 
has  made  us  free  ".^  And  Christ  Himself  attached  free- 
dom to  truth :  '*  And  ye  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the 
truth  shall  make  you  free.'*' 

The  conscious  will  should  rule,  and  rule  in  accord- 
ance with  the  moral  sense ;  but  sometimes  the  instincts 
of  character,  and  what  may  be  called  the  unconscious 
will,  prevails  over  the  conscious  will ;  and  *'  the  firmest 
resolve,"  says  Maudsley,  "  or  purpose  sometimes  vanishes 

1  J.  S.  Mill,  Systgm  of  Logic,  vol.  ii.,  p.  477. 
•St.  Paul,  Gal.  v.  i.  •  St.  John  viii.  3a. 


156  SPRINGS  OP  CHARACTER 

issueless  when  it  comes  to  the  brink  of  an  act,  while 
the  true  (i.e.,  unconscious)  will,  which  determines  per- 
haps a  different  act,  springs  up  suddenly  out  of  the 
depths  of  the  unconscious  nature,  surprising  and  over- 
coming the  conscious  ".^ 

If  the  conscious  will  be  allied  with  the  character,  of 
course  there  is  no  difficulty. 

As  a  rule,  I  do  what  I  would,  though  at  all  times  it 
is  impossible  to  trace  all  the  springs  that  move  me :  so 
unconscious  are  they ;  yet,  however  many  there  may  be, 
I  feel  the  will  is  free,  that  I  need  not  have  so  acted 
unless  "  I  chose,"  and  that  I  am,  therefore,  a  responsible 
being  before  God  and  man. 
Will  controls  The  will,  as  we  have  seen,  is,  in  a  sense,  determined 

and  expresses    ,  -  ,  ,         .  ,  ,  .  _     , 

Character.  by  the  character,  but  masmuch  as  the  expression  of  the 
character  in  action  is  at  the  control  of  the  will,  the  will 
also  forms  the  character  by  repeated  action.  We  cannot 
will  to  be  different,  any  more  than  we  can  will  to  play 
the  violin ;  but  we  can  will  to  do  certain  actions  that 
make  us  different  by  repetition,  so  as  to  attain  one 
result,  and  modify  the  character.  The  effect  of  action 
is  even  more  subjective  than  objective — inward  more 
than  outward.  The  outward  effect  may  be  good  or  bad  ; 
the  effect  of  the  action  on  our  character  depends  on  the 
motive  that  caused  it  Each  action  performed  under  the 
influence  of  motives  is  my  own,  the  character  being  more 
definitely  formed  with  each  voluntary  act. 

"  Character,'*  says  Novalis,  "  is  a  completely  formed 
will." 

*  Maudsley,  Physiology  of  Mind,  p.  417. 


CHARACTER  AND  THE  WILL  157 

But  the  will  must  be  strong  and  resolute,  and  often  in 
the  desperate  conflict  with  inertia  and  positive  evil  needs 
all  the  aid  it  can  get  from  the  higher  side  of  character, 
and  from  the  enlightened  moral  sense,  energised  by 
the  Divine  Spirit.  Many  amiable,  good  characters  are 
marred  for  want  of  will.  We  see  plainly  they  might  be 
so  much  better,  do  so  much  more  good,  with  more  will 
and  purpose  than  they  do. 

Effort  and  overcoming  are  essential  factors  in  all 
strong  characters,  and  determined  wills  are  their  main- 
springs. Prof.  James  ^  earnestly  insists  upon  our  never 
suffering  a  single  emotion  to  evaporate  without  its 
yielding  some  practical  service.  Freedom  is  not  standing 
still ;  it  is  the  power  to  become ;  it  is  advance. 

We  are  really  as  capable  of  moulding  our  characters 
if  we  will,  by  force  and  exercise  of  will,  as  of  having 
them  made  for  us  by  others  unconsciously. 

A  habit  of  willing  is  called  a  purpose.  It  is  only  Source  of 
when  our  purposes  have  become  independent  of  pain  or  Decision. 
pleasure  or  internal  sudden  impulses  that  we  are  said  to 
have  a  settled  or  confirmed  character.  A  whole-hearted 
purpose  to  be  true  to  one's  best  instincts  ever  leads 
onward.  A  great  deal  of  moral  power  is  gained  by 
liccustoming  our  will  to  act  with  decision  the  moment 
che  right  path  is  clear.  This  decision,  and  the  habitual 
discipline  of  a  strong  will,  are  essential  to  a  good  char- 
acter. "  In  the  supremacy  of  self-control  consists  one  of 
the  perfections  of  the  ideal  man.     Not  to  be  impulsive—. 

•Profc  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  i.,  p.  125. 


158  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

not  to  be  spurred  hither  and  thither  by  each  desire- 
but  to  be  self-restrained,  self-balanced,  governed  by  the 
just  decision  of  the  feelings  in  council  assembled  .  .  . 
that  it  is  which  moral  education  strives  to  produce."  ^ 

Self-reverence,  self-knowledge,  self-control — 

These  three  alone  lead  life  to  sovereign  power. 

Yet  not  for  power  ;  that  of  itself  would  come  unsought, 

But  to  live  by  rule,  acting  each  rule  by  law, 

And  because  right  is  right  to  follow  right, 

Were  wisdom  in  the  score  of  consequence.  ■ 

At  a  large  girls'  college  in  the  States  girls  deserving 
of  it  are  put  on  the  roll  of  the  "  Self-governed,"  and 
are  then  permitted  to  do  as  they  please. 

The  bravest  trophy  ever  man  obtained 

Is  that  which  in  himself  himself  hath  gained.' 

We  will  now  consider  the  relation  of  the  will  to 
morality.  We  have  seen  that  the  will  must  be  free  in 
order  that  moral  responsibility  can  exist.  A  person,  to 
be  moral,  must  be  capable  of  being  immoral ;  a  free  will 
implies  choice.  For  moral  action  there  must  be  con- 
sciousness. Instincts  as  suck,  strictly  speaking,  are  not 
in  themselves  moral ;  what  we  mean  by  the  words  moral 
instincts  are  instincts  which  form  the  basis  of  moral 
action.  It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  moral  responsibility 
does  not  attach  to  the  original  character,  save  when  it 
becomes  the  cause  of  action  in  consciousness.  I  am 
responsible,  morally,  for  all  my  acts,  though  they  may  be 
done  in  opposition  to  my  better  self,  and  in  this  sense  I 
can  say  it  was  not  I  who  did  them. 

1  Herbert  Spencer,  Social  Statics,  p.  185. 
•  Lord  Tennyson,  (Enone.  *  Earl  of  Stirlinf  . 


CHARACTER  AND  THE  WILL  159 

We  arc  not  what  we  do,  but  what  we  approve  of. 
Nevertheless,  we  are  responsible  for  what  we  do.  A 
responsible  man  is  one,  therefore,  whose  conscious  will 
endorses  the  actions  that  may  spring  from  unconscious 
motives.  We  are  responsible  for  all  actions,  however 
much  they  may  be  predetermined  by  character.  Punish- 
ment for  and  suffering  for  sin  is  thus  really  in  the 
interests  of  humanity,  and  of  the  whole  race.  If  fools 
and  sinners  did  not  suffer  for  folly  and  sin,  the  world 
would  soon  consist  of  nothing  else. 

We  see  from  all  this  what  moral  importance  attaches  Action  of 

Will  shows 

to  the  action  of  the  will.  All  moral  training  is  essentially  Morality. 
a  training  of  the  will ;  moral  health  implies  a  vigorous 
will.  The  two  evils  as  to  will  are  feebleness  or  indolence 
and  the  corruption  of  will  by  self-indulgence.  The  first 
moment,  therefore,  that  moral  sense  is  developed,  the 
conflict  'begins  between  two  springs  of  action,  a  higher 
and  a  lower  ;  and  the  first  index  of  moral  character  is 
the  choice  between  them.  It  is  useless,  therefore,  to 
think  a  man  is  good  because  the  analysis  of  his  motives 
and  character  shows  it.  No  man  is  known  to  be  good 
until  he  has  exhibited  his  worth  in  voluntary  action. 
Morality  and  the  exercise  of  the  will  are  inseparable. 

We  must  now  consider  what  constitutes  right  con- 
duct, without  trenching  too  much  on  the  domain  of 
conscience  and  Christianity,  which  form  the  subjects  of 
Chapters  XII.  and  XIII. 

Let  m  hear  what  Plato  has  to  say  on  this.^  "  Right 

»  Plato,  Rep.t  443,  c— B. 


i6o  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

(i.e.,  conscience)  concerns  itself  with  the  inward  springs 
which  are  man's  true  self  and  life.  When  he  has  turned 
to  account  his  three  principles  (wisdom,  courage,  and 
self-control)  like  the  three  notes  of  a  scale  (with  any 
intermediate  notes),  then  he  may  be  and  become,  no 
longer  manifold  in  character, but  one  compact  and  balanced 
nature.  He  is  at  last  prepared  so  to  act  and  call  that 
conduct  right  and  good  which  concurs  with  this  character, 
and  that  knowledge  which  directs  it — wisdom  :  and  on 
the  other  hand,  that  conduct  wrong  which  may  misrepre- 
sent it,  and  that  judgment  ignorance  which  directs  such 
conduct." 

Every  action  is  right  which  in  the  presence  of  a  lower 
motive  follows  a  higher.  "  I  do  that  I  would  not "  is 
seldom  literally  true  when  we  are  conscious  of  our  actions. 
We  must  abet  to  some  extent  every  action  we  are  aware 
of. 

Now  a  right  action  may  not  be  positively  right  and 
yet  relatively  so.  The  generous  man  may  have  to  close 
his  hand,  the  merciful  man  to  harden  his  heart,  the 
truthful  man  to  veil  facts ;  but  if  done  with  sorrow,  the 
action  is  right,  and  no  harm  ensues  to  character. 

Good  conduct  should  be  righteous  and  right ;  but 
between  the  two  the  former  prevails.  An  action  is  good 
not  in  itself,  or  in  its  results,  but  in  its  motive.  The 
motive  may  be  known  or  unknown.  It  is  better  when 
known.  It  is  well  to  know  always  why  we  act,  or  at  any 
rate  the  leading  motive.  Where  instinct  pulls  one  way 
and  reason  another,  we  must  ever  remember  that  the 
defeat  of  reason  by  instinct  fs  to  a  certain  extent  de- 


CHARACTER  AND  THE  WILL  i6i 

moralising,  even  when  the  latter  is  better,  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  defeat  of  instinct  by  reason  is  good  and 
common ;  the  resisting  of  temptation  is  generally  a 
conflict  of  the  latter  sort.  Many  think  that  if  they  act 
according  to  the  moral  sense  it  is  necessarily  right. 
Not  so ;  it  is  right  with  relation  to  this,  but  may  be 
wrong  with  reference  to  God  and  man  ;  as  when  St. 
Paul,  with  a  good  conscience,  sent  Christian  men  and 
women  to  prison  To  do  what  we  think  right  may  be 
all  we  are  capable  of  at  the  moment ;  but  we  should  not 
rest  till  we  are  assured  that  what  we  believe  to  be  right 
actually  is  so,  and  therefore  that  what  we  do  zs  right. 

So  much  stress  has  been  laid  in  this  chapter  on  the  We  are  mort 

than  what 

moral  worth  attaching  to  action,  that  it  may  seem  as  ifwerfo. 
what  we  do  is  worth  more  than  what  we  are.  That  is  of 
course  ridiculous ;  for  the  former  is  ever  based  on  the 
latter,  and  is  its  expression.  The  only  reason  why  it  is 
of  such  value  is  because  this  expression  depends  on  the 
will  that  causes  the  action  ;  and  this  will  being  free, 
moral  responsibility  attaches  to  it  in  a  special  way ; 
and  thus  the  morality  which  we  may  say  was  passive 
and  potential  in  character,  becomes  active  and  embodied 
in  conduct  We  therefore  will  now  proceed  to  consider 
conduct  generally. 


tl 


CHAPTER  XI. 

CHARACTER  AND  CONDUCT. 
Actionsexpress  In  the  former  chapter  we  were  occupied  with  the  motive 

Character.  m  -i*  ••.t 

power  on  which  our  moral  responsibility  rests.  Now  we 
have  before  us  the  expressed  results  of  that  power  in 
what  we  call  conduct,  by  which  a  man  is  legitimately 
judged  of  his  fellows.  "  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know 
them  " ;  and  this  because  these  are  the  best  expression 
of  the  character  of  the  tree.  In  winter  many  trees  are 
indistinguishable  by  the  trunk  and  branches  alone  ;  in 
spring  the  leaves,  and,  later  on,  the  flowers,  show  definite 
qualities  ;  but,  after  all,  it  is  the  fruit  that  proclaims  what 
the  tree  really  is  without  doubt. 

Now  character  is  not  a  product  of  reason  or  con- 
sciousness, but  lies  in  the  unconscious  mind  ;  and  as  far 
as  our  actions  are  unconscious,  they  express  it  perfectly : 
but  reason  and  conscious  will  can  interfere  and  alter 
this  expression,  unlike  the  case  of  the  tree  whose  fruits 
are  wholly  unconsciously  produced. 

Therefore  our  conduct  is  not  so  true  an  expression  of 

our  real  character  as  is  the  fruit  of  the  tree.     But  we 

must  touch  on  this  again  a  little  later. 

(162) 


CHARACTER  AND  CONDUCT  163 

Ribot  says  :  ^  **  Character  is  the  only  immediate  cause 
of  voluntary  action.  Motives  are  mediate  causes,  but  the 
latter  are  conscious,  or  liable  to  become  so ;  the  former  is 
absolutely  unconscious."  This  remark,  we  think,  must 
not  be  examined  too  critically,  but  it  is  true  in  the  main. 
Motives  frequently  baffle  scrutiny,  as  we  have  already  Motives  of 

Conduct. 

seen.  How  often  do  we  think  we  have  consciously 
weighed  all  our  desires  on  a  point,  and  yet  at  last  we 
act  from  some  other  reason  which  has  lain  in  uncon- 
sciousness all  the  time  ? 

"It  would  go  hard  with  mankind,  indeed,  if  they  must 
act  wittingly  before  they  acted  at  all."^  "  Men,  without 
knowing  why,  follow  a  course  for  which  good  reasons 
exist — nay,  more,  the  practical  instincts  of  mankind 
often  work  beneficially  in  actual  contradiction  to  their 
professed  doctrines."^  They  are,  in  short,  better  than 
their  creeds  ;  for  common  sense,  one  of  the  four  internal 
senses  of  the  Aristotelians,  is  the  judgment  or  voice  of 
the  unconscious  mind. 

Conduct,  indeed,  is  finally  determined  rather  by 
feeling  than  reason  ;  and  as  a  matter  of  fact,  conduct 
is  best  when  the  reflective  and  the  impulsive  are  well 
balanced. 

Acting  on  principle,  as  distinguished  from  expediency, 
means  acting  from  a  moral  motive,  rather  than  from  the 
expected  result  of  the  action.  Of  course  there  are  many 
actions,  perhaps  the  bulk,  that  cannot  be  classified  under 
either  head. 

>  Ribot'8  Otrman  Psychology^  p.  245. 

•  Maudtley,  Physiology  of  Mind,  p.  13.  » Ibid,,  p.  iSi 


i64  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Consistent  and  inconsistent  conduct  refer  us  to  the 
character  which  they  do  or  do  not  express.  The  more 
educated  and  trained  a  mind,  the  more  it  selects  its 
conduct  and  speech  according  to  a  settled  character 
and  train  of  thought,  z.e,,  it  is  always  relevant.  This 
settled  character  is  called  by  Stout  **  noetic  synthesis  ". 
A  yokel  telling  a  story  has  no  such  guide,  but  wanders 
among  associations,  and  loses  his  thread  ;  so  also  the 
aged,  and  where  the  mind  is  weak.  The  talk  of  an  un- 
educated man  springs  from  chance  associations  and  ap- 
perception ;  that  of  an  educated  man,  as  well  as  his 
conduct,  is  controlled  by  "noetic  synthesis"  (a  truly 
fascinating  term). 

Thought,  speech,  conduct,  therefore,  as  far  as  they 
spring  from  the  last  idea  or  accident,  arise  from  mere 
association  ;  as  far  as  they  are  purposeful  and  con- 
sistent, they  are  due  to  "noetic  synthesis"  or  char- 
acter. 

Acts  that  are  not  the  result  of  character  have  com- 
paratively little  influence;  for  it  is  rightly  felt  that 
action  should  be  the  outcome  of  the  personality.  The 
effect  of  any  action  is  measured  by  the  depth  of  feeling 
from  which  it  proceeds.  But  we  must  remember  tha'' 
character  itself  is,  or  ought  to  be,  growing,  the  "  noetic 
synthesis"  enlarging  and  consolidating.  Our  actions 
are  the  result  of  our  character,  just  as  character  is  the 
result  of  heredity  and  education.  But  we  are  free  to 
improve  character.  Quite  so  ;  we  are  free  to  do  so,  but 
our  doing  so  depends  upon  the  will.  The  desire  must 
be  there,  and  for  this  often  an  external  influence — the 


CHARACTER  AND  CONDUCT  i^ 

Breath  of  God,  the  Holy  Spirit — is  needed  to  put  life  into 
the  dry  bones  of  a  purposeless  character. 

By  conduct  we  mean  our  words  and  acts  and  general  what  is 

Conduct? 

deportment.  As  expressors  of  character  we  have  also 
our  thoughts,  but  these  reveal  character  only  to  our- 
selves. Others  can  only  arrive  at  our  thoughts  through 
the  conduct.  Just  as  in  a  watch,  any  one  may  see  the 
face  and  observe  the  hands  move  round,  and  judge  of 
its  value  by  the  accurate  time  it  keeps,  yet  no  one  but 
the  owner  ever  opens  the  case  ;  so  with  ourselves,  any 
one  may  judge  of  our  value  by  our  conduct  and  the  way 
in  which  we  keep  God's  time  of  day  in  this  world,  but 
only  ourselves,  the  owners,  can  open  the  case  and  there 
see  the  mainspring  (the  will)  that  sets  the  works  (the 
character)  in  motion,  controlled  by  the  balance  wheel 
(the  moral  sense). 

Conduct  is  generally  called  forth  by  circumstances. 
Indeed,  it  is  the  product  of  circumstances  and  character. 
It  may  thus  be  represented  as  a  reflex  action : — 


OiroumstanoeB 


Conduct  is  of  practical  value  to  the  mind.  If  the  varieties  < 
ideas  of  reason  are  to  become  any  part  of  our  character 
they  must  be  lived  and  acted  on  as  they  come  to  light. 
*'  The  limbs  of  the  mind,"  says  Ruskin,  "  must  all  be 
exercised."  Conduct,  of  course,  varies  at  different  ages. 
At  first  it  is  largely  the  result  of  the  natural  instincts 
modified  by  hereditary  instinct,  and  is  wholly  uncon- 


i66  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

scious  When  it  becomes  conscious,  then  the  child  is 
"  old  enough  to  be  good,"  that  is,  old  enough  to  control 
impulse  and  instinct  by  reason.  Thereafter  throughout 
life  conduct  is  the  reasonable  expression  of  character 
until,  in  old  age,  the  reason  is  less  active,  and  the  con- 
duct becomes  the  expression  of  confirmed  habits. 

Human  life  is  three-fourths  conduct,  and  this  should 
be,  as  we  have  seen,  the  expression  of  the  character. 
Corre-  For  we  should  not  depend  on  the  belief  or  even  on 

spondence  of 

Conduct  and  the  fact  of  OUT  character  being  good,  but  should  express 
the  same  in  our  conduct.  Many  think  the  great  point 
is  to  be  right  within  and  leave  the  outside  to  take  care 
of  itself,  and  are  thus  careless  about  their  actions.  This 
is  as  wrong  as  if  we  said  we  know  the  watch  has  good 
works,  and  do  not,  therefore,  care  what  time  it  tells. 
On  the  contrary,  we  should  see  that  our  conduct  is  up 
to  our  standard  of  life,  even  in  the  small  matters  of 
dress,  cleanliness,  deportment  and  manners.  Many 
minds  are  so  great  that  they  neglect  these  small 
matters  ;  smaller  minds  are  absorbed  with  them,  while 
other  minds  again  are  so  petty  that  they  depend  on 
being  thought  great  because  they  neglect  them.  The 
first  is  bad,  the  second  worse,  the  third  worst.  In  this 
and  other  ways  some  people's  conduct  reveals  their 
characters  ;  that  of  others  partly  conceals  them.  In  all 
we  say  or  do  we  should  express  our  formed  selves  (our 
"noetic  synthesis").  Unassimilated  principles,  that  as 
yet  do  not  form  part  of  ourselves,  lie  silent  till  absorbed. 
In  great  things  our  character  will  show  itself  without 
effort,  without  our  knowledge  or  will. 


CHARACTER  AND  CONDUCT  167 

When  conscious  action  is  of  the  same  character  as  Education  of 

the  Conscious 
the   unconscious,    it   shows   that  our   conscious   mind    and  and  Uncon- 
scious. 

unconscious  correspond  ;  when  our  conscious  actions  are 
easier,  better,  and  more  refined  than  our  unconscious, 
it  shows  that  our  conscious  mind  is  better  educated  than 
the  unconscious  ;  in  short,  that  education  has  done  more 
for  us  than  heredity.  When  our  unconscious  actions 
are  easier,  better,  and  more  refined  than  our  conscious, 
it  shows  the  reverse,  that  however  defective  has  been 
our  conscious  education,  our  unconscious  mind  is  edu- 
cated and  our  heredity  good.  We  are  all  well  acquainted 
with  these  different  characters,  the  best,  of  course,  being 
when  both  have  reached  the  same  standard,  and  the 
unity  of  the  man  is  proclaimed. 

Our  friends,  of  course,  do  not  analyse  the  grounds 
of  their  knowledge  of  us,  and  yet  they  know.  We  are 
all  discerners  of  spirits  by  our  own  unconscious  minds 
reading  the  minds  of  others,  though  consciously  we 
know  not  how  it  is  done. 

If  the  conduct  is  very  much  better  than  the  character 
the  difference  is  probably  consciously  assumed  for  a 
purpose  ;  but  a  slight  difference  is  legitimate,  and  may 
exist  unconsciously.  It  arises  as  follows  :  If  a  character 
is  growing  the  conduct  will  soon  be  slightly  better  than 
the  character,  because  it  represents  what  we  would  be, 
rather  than  what  we  are  :  it  is  the  growing  point.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  we  are  degenerating,  the  conduct  will 
again  be  a  little  better  than  what  we  are.  Because, 
although  growth  is  an  aim,  degeneracy  is  never  a  positive 
object  or  source  of  conduct.     Degeneracy  is  in  spite  of 


t68  springs   of  CHARACTER 

our  wishes  rather  than  because  of  them,  and  conduct 
h'ngers  behind,  and  still  keeps  up  outwardly  a  standard 
long  since  departed  from  inwardly. 

Lastly,  conduct  tends  most  exactly  to  represent 
character  when  that  character  is  stationary  and  fixed. 

Action  may  be  prompt  or  slow.  The  strongest 
characters  are  slow  in  action,  but  unswerving.  The 
ideal  character  combines,  unconsciously,  prompt  habitual 
action  in  familiar  circumstances,  with  slowness  and 
wariness  in  unusual  circumstances. 

Public  and  private  conduct  vary  immensely  ;  the  true 
character  is  almost  invariably  more  exactly  expressed  by 
the  latter. 
Character  After  all,  however,  the  character  is  more  than  its 

more  than  .  ,  ^  .  .  .         .  , 

Conduct.  expression,  however  perfect  this  may  be,  just  as  the 
works  are  more  than  the  hands  of  a  watch  ;  nor,  indeed, 
is  action  the  only  way  in  which  character  is  expressed. 
'  It  is  exhaled  from  us  every  moment.  It  declares  itself 
unconsciously,  not  by  acts  only,  but  when  sitting  or 
sleeping.  It  is  shown  in  silence  itself.  We  cannot  find 
the  full  worth  of  Washington,  of  Chatham,  of  Sidney,  of 
Essex,  of  Schiller,  or  of  Gordon  in  their  deeds,  or  even 
in  their  words.  Their  characters  were  greater  than 
either.  Character  not  only  affects  conduct,  but  conduct 
affects  character  ;  in  all  these  matters  there  can  be  no 
action  without  reaction.  We  are  never  exactly  the  same 
after  our  deeds  as  we  were  before  them. 

The  true  development  of  mind  lies  in  right  doing  and 
true  knowing,  with  attention  paid  to  ends  and  objects, 
and  not  to  the  growing  and  changing  self.     Our  moral 


CHARACTER  AND   CONDUCT  169 

character  is  thus  the  outcome  not  only  of  external  in- 
fluences, but  of  our  own  conduct. 

With  regard  to  the  connection  of  morality  and  conduct 
we  have  already  spoken  at  length  in  the  last  chapter. 

Morality  is  said  to  be  the  science  and  art  of  conduct ; 
certainly  the  value  of  morality  is  in  its  practice,  just  as 
the  end  of  knowledge  is  conduct  Conduct  when  it  is 
good  brings  happiness  and  peace  to  the  person.  It  is 
the  flower  and  fruit  of  the  inner  life.  The  leaves  of  pro- 
fession may  make  a  goodly  show,  but  the  fig  tree  must 
be  cursed  if  it  bear  nothing  but  them  ;  the  flowers  and 
the  fruit  alone  display  the  full  character  of  the  stock,  and 
in  bearing  these  the  tree  alone  fulfils  its  destiny. 

The  object  for  which  we  are  sent  into  this  world  is  to 
bring  glory  to  God,  not  by  our  characters  alone,  but  by 
the  conduct  which  expresses  them  for  good  or  evil. 

Still,  as  of  old, 

Man  by  himself  is  priced; 
Bor  thirty  pieces  Judas  sold 

Himself— -not  Christ. 


CHAPTER  XIL 

CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE. 

The  Moral      We  havc  10  this  chapter  to  consider  one  of  the  most 

Element  in 

Character.  powerful  factors  in  the  production  of  character  ;  inas- 
much as  when  we  speak  of  character,  however  broadly, 
the  moral  element  in  it  is  always  most  prominently 
before  our  minds,  and  therefore  the  moral  sense  or  con- 
science has  more  to  do  with  it  than  any  other  of  the 
abstract  or  special  senses.  Conscience  is  ever  active  in 
the  formation  of  character  for  good  or  evil,  for  it  is  quite 
an  error  to  suppose  that  its  influence  is  always  on  the 
side  of  right.  No  doubt  normally  it  is  so,  but  we  find  at 
times  that  it  is  practically  enlisted  on  the  side  of  cruel 
wrong  and  injustice. 

It  will  be  noted  that  in  the  present  day  some  of  the 
best  psychologies  may  be  searched  in  vain  for  the  word 
"  conscience,"  to  which  there  appears  to  be  an  increasing 
distaste  ;  the  tendency  of  modern  thought  being  wholly 
in  favour  of  natural    development   as   contrasted    with 

Conscience  or  supernatural  endowment  and  special  organs.      Instead, 

Moral  Sense. 

therefore,  of  regarding  conscience  as  a  unique  endow- 
ment standing  by  itself  under  the  title  of  the  moral  sense, 
an  attempt  has  been  made  to  range  it  with  other  abstract 

senses,  such  as  the  logical  faculty  and  aesthetics. 

(170) 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE  171 

In  our  desire  to  simplify  the  obscure  and  bring  life's 
mysteries  within  the  range  of  the  human  intellect,  wc 
may,  however,  and  frequently  do,  go  too  far. 

When,  for  instance,  life  is  ranged  with  other  natural 
forces,  such  as  light,  heat,  electricity,  we  feel  at  once  that 
what  we  apparently  gain  in  simplicity,  we  lose  in  truth  ; 
for  while  there  is  much  in  the  action  of  vital  force  that 
is  on  a  par  with  the  natural  forces,  life  is  still  an  inscrut- 
able mystery,  and  possesses  powers  (especially  psychic) 
to  which  there  is  no  equivalent  in  heat,  light,  or  even 
electricity. 

In  somewhat  the  same  way,  though,  as  we  shall  see, 
conscience  ts  an  abstract  sense,  there  is  undoubtedly 
that  about  it  which  rightly  prevents  us  from  placing  it  on 
an  equality  alongside  of  other  abstract  senses  ;  and  the 
word  conscience  is  a  convenient  word  to  retain  to  mark 
this  difference.  It  would  indeed  also  be  convenient  if  the 
other  senses  had  a  single  word  to  describe  their  use  in 
the  same  way.  We  will  therefore  retain  the  word,  though 
it  is  discarded  by  so  many. 

Words  are  often  found  in  common  parlance  that  are  Value  of  Wore 

in  coi 

completely  ignored  by  scientists  ;  words  which  enshrine  Use. 
ideas  as  old  as  the  race,  but  which,  because  these  ideas 
are  obscure  and  possibly  run  counter  to  those  current  in 
science  at  the  time,  are  useless  to  those  who  would  limit 
their  vocabulary  to  what  they  understand.  Amongst 
these  may  be  included  such  words  as  life,  mind,  con-, 
science,  and  to  many  "  God  ". 

We,  however,  consider  the  retention  of  these  and 
many  other  well-known   words  and  phrases  of  some 


in  common 


Ill  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

importance,  as  a  testimony  to  the  existence  of  realities 
and  truths  as  yet  beyond  scientific  analysis,  as  well  as 
being  of  great  practical  convenience.  (Some  phrases 
are  retained  for  convenience  only:  an  example,  ht 
instance,  is  that  truly  misleading  phrase  **  the  sun  sets,* 
for  which  a  brief  scientific  substitute  has  been  sought  in 
vain). 
The  Idea  of  a       The  idea  of  a  conscience  is  to  be  found  in  all  religions,  ^ 

Conscience.  .         .  ..  _._,  /••  t" 

and  IS  of  great  antiquity.     In  Egypt,  for  instance,  we  } 
find  that  the  oath  of  the  ancient  priesthood  ran  : — 

"  I  have  never  defiled  my  conscience  for  fear,  or  for 
favour  of  my  superiors.'* 

The  Greek  word  for  conscience  {a-vveiSrfcns:),  which 
was  afterwards  used  so  largely  in  Christian  writings,  first 
occurs  in  the  works  of  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,^ 
shortly  before  the  Christian  era.  "  Best  of  all,"  he  says, 
**  is  never  willingly  to  lie  or  defile  one's  conscience." 

The  Greek-thinking  writers  in  the  New  Testament 
largely  use  this  word.  Amongst  Hebrew  writers,  as  in 
the  Prophets,  many  equivalents  are  used — the  "word  of 
the  Lord  "  being  often  used  in  this  sense.  The  descrip- 
tions of  its  actions  are  very  vivid  and  frequent  in  the 
Bible. 
Comparison  of  It  may  be  convenient  here  briefly  to  compare  the  three 
ceptions  of  conceptions  of  conscience  amongst  Hebrew,  Greek  and 
Christian  writers,  as  they  differ  essentially  in  character. 

In  Greek  writings  the  conscience  is  entirely  subjec- 
tive :  it  is  ourselves  at  our  best.     In  the  Old  Testament 

*  Dion.  Halicarn.,  vi.,  825-15. 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE  173 

ft  Is  objective  :  the  result  of  the  voice  of  God  ;  while  in 
Christianity  it  partakes  of  both  characters. 

The  Christian  conception  is  more  personal  and 
important  than  the  Greek,  while  less  so  than  the 
Hebrew. 

To  the  Greek  conscience  is  our  better  self;  to  the 
Hebrew,  God  acting  in  as  ;  to  the  Christian,  the  voice  of 
God  in  us. 

The  Greek  was  an  independent  agent,  conforming 
himself  at  his  own  will  to  the  God  in  Nature. 

The  Hebrew  was  acted  upon,  moved  and  guided  by 
Jehovah's  voice  and  law. 

The  Christian  is  God's  son ;  free  (like  the  Greek), 
but  energised  and  guided  by  God's  Spirit  in  him,  thus 
bringing  him  into  harmony  with  God  without. 

The  Christian  conception  apart  from  its  religious 
▼alue  is  the  most  practical  and  best  adapted  to  the 
development  of  character 

But  it  is  time  to  ask :  What  is  this  conscience — so  \ 
universally  admitted,  so  universally  moulding  and  form-  ^ 
ing  men's  lives,  and  constituting  the  one  moral  natural  i  • 
force  in  life? 

The  answers,  as  may  be  expected,  are  various  and 
confusing.  We  will  give  a  few  replies  before  attempting 
to  give  one  more  answer  to  the  perplexing  question. 

Confucius,  Plato,  Aristotle,  HegeJ,  Spinoza  and  Kant  what  is  o 

.  .  ,.    ,  science? 

consider  the  power  m  conscience  to  be  the  enlightened 
reason.  Epicurus,  Hobbes,  Bentham  and  Bain  consider 
its  power  to  be  the  instinct  of  individual  self-preservation. 
Comte^  Schopenhauer,  Clifford,  Smith,  Hume,  Hutche- 


/ 


174  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

son,  Lewes,  as  well  as  Leslie  Stephen,  consider  it  to  be 
the  instinct  of  social  (selO  preservation.  Leslie  Stephen 
says  :  ^  "  Conscience  is  the  utterance  of  the  public  spirit 
of  the  race,  ordering  us  to  obey  the  primary  conditions 
of  its  welfare  ".  G.  H.  Lewes  says  :  "  The  social  factor 
is  the  real  cause  of  the  elevation  of  the  animal  into  the 
human,  the  sensible  into  the  ideal  world,  knowledge 
into  science,  emotion  into  the  sensational,  appetite  into 
morality  ". 

None  of  these  theories  appear  sufficient  to  account 
for  the  voice  of  conscience. 

Its  actions  and  impulses  are  often  against  reason  and 
are  certainly  neither  suggested  nor  guided  by  the  intellect 
while  its  decisions  in  abstract  questions  of  right  and 
wrong  place  it  quite  beyond  any  social  or  individual 
considerations.  We  cannot  say  of  reason  as  of  morality, 
that  its  treasures,  often  hidden  "  from  the  wise  and  pru- 
dent, are  revealed  to  babes  ".  Such  words,  however  absurd 
about  learning  or  about  science,  are  nevertheless  true 
about  this  wonderful  moral  instinct. 
.J  **  Conscience,"  says  Dr.  Fowler,^  "  is  the  aggregate  of 
our  moral  opinions,  reinforced  by  the  moral  sanction  of 
self-approbation  or  self-disapprobation  which  is  habitually 
attached  to  them." 

"  The  conscience,"  observes  Prof.  Starcke,*  "  is  placed 
in  the  midst  of  our  feelings  and  volitions,  net  simply  as 

*L.  Stephen,  Science  ofEthicSy  p.  351. 

■Dr.  T.  Fowler,  Progressive  Morality,  p.  jo. 

*  Pro£  C.  N.  Starcke,  International  Journal  of  Bihics  (Copenhagen), 

Toi.  a^  p.  347. 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE  175 

/^2>  product  (the  italics  are  ours),  but  as  a  person  ruling 
them." 

Professor  Shairp  says :  "  Conscience  is  the  absolute  in  j 
the  soul " — a  fine  remark. 

The  Old  Testament  says,  in  the  words  of  Solomon  :^  The  Bible  v|e 

_,,  ..^  .11  /"i-r*  1.  -,  of  Conscienc< 

"  The  spirit  of  man  is  the  lamp  of  the  Lord,  searching  all 
the  innermost  parts  of  the  belly". 

The  New  Testament  by  St  Paul  says-'  "The 
Gentiles  .  .  .  are  a  law  unto  themselves,  which  show  the 
work  of  the  law  written  in  their  hearts,  their  conscience 
also  bearing  them  witness,  and  their  thoughts  the  mean- 
while accusing  or  else  excusing  one  another." 

Conscience  is  universal,  although  its  action  differs  conscience !« 

.  ,   ,  ,.  .  11  UniverMU. 

Widely  according  to  its  standard. 

Bishop  Butler  says :  *  "  There  is  a  conscience  in  every 
man  which  distinguishes  between  principles  of  heart  as 
well  as  external  actions,  and  without  being  consulted  (the  \ 
italics  are  ours),  magisterially  asserts  itself  and  approves  ; 
or  condemns  the  riian  accordingly  ". 

The  Bible  throughout  declares  that  all  have  an  inwaid 
power  to  discern  moral  truths. 

"  Even  of  your  own  selves  judge  ye  not  what  is  right** 
The  "light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the 
world"  includes  the  conscience,  though  it  may  mean  more. 

There  is  a  moral  sense,  a  sense  of  duty,  in  all  men. 
It  is  even  to  be  seen  in  Tennyson's  "  Northern  Farmer," 
who  is  represented  as  dead  to  any  higher  thoughts ;  for 
even  he  "  stubb'd  Thamaby  waiste  ". 

>  Prov.  XX.  27.  *  St.  Paal,  Rom.  ii.  14-15. 

*  Bishop  BuUcr,  Strmon  9%  Human  Natun,  p.  40). 


■90  SPRINGS  OP  CHARACTER 

Nowhere  is  conscience  or  the  moral  sense  denied  ;  its 
evidence  is  too  strong  in  every  human  heart. 

Darwin  says :  "  Of  all  the  differences  between  men 
and  the  lower  animals  the  conscience  is  the  most  im- 
portant". Conscience  is  indeed  essential  to  humanity. 
"There  have  been  no  beings,"  says  Dr.  Robertson,^ 
"absolutely  human  and  sane  in  whom  conscience  is 
totally  inactive." 

But  conscience  is  not  altogether  an  unique  function, 
and  we  will  proceed  to  compare  and  also  to  contrast  it 
with  other  abstract  senses  of  which  we  have  spoken,  and 
of  which  it  forms  one — such  as  the  aesthetic  and  the 
logical  senses;  indeed,  the  three  may  well  be  grouped 
together. 

These  three  abstract  senses  are  part  of  the  natural 
equipment  of  every  rational  man.  We  have  our  ordinary 
senses — sight,  hearing,  etc. — by  which  we  recognise 
physical  phenomena ;  and  then,  over  and  above  these, 
differing  from  them  in  toto,  and  with  no  special  organs 
for  their  use  as  far  as  physiology  at  present  knows,  we 
have  these  comparative  or  synthetic  (hence  avvetSTjat^  for 
conscience),  a  comparing  together  of  faculties  which  deal 
with  the  relations  of  things. 

The  (Esthetic  sense  deals  with  the  relations  between 
physical  sights  and  sounds,  lines,  colours,  harmonies, 
etc.;  the  logical  sense  with  rational  and  intellectual 
relations ;  the  moral  sense  with  relations  between  God 
and  man,  and  man  and  his  neighbour. 

^  Dr.  Robertson,  CoHscieHC4,  p.  6. 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE  177 

The  JEsthetic  sense  is  said  to  be  the  most  physical ;  : 
the  conscience  to  be  connected  with  the  heart,  as  logid 
is  with  the  head.  The  three  are  to  a  certain  extent! 
interdependent. 

The  aesthetic  sense  may  not  ignore  moral  and  logical 
relations,  otherwise  its  judgments  and  results  are  bad 
and  mad. 

The  logical  may  not  ignore  the  aesthetic  or  moral,  or 
it  becomes  unattractive  and  unscrupulous.     The  moral  j 
'  faculty,  if  cut  off  from  the  other  two,  becomes  repulsive  \ 
land  irrational  (morbid  conscience,  etc.). 

Right  and  wrong,  to  a  certain  extent,  are  terms  that 
may  be  applied  to  all  three,  and  each  abstract  sense  has 
the  power  of  letting  us  know  when  we  offend  against  its 
standard   and   laws.     Each    faculty  is   imperative,  and  Right  and 

....  Wrong  in   Ro 

pronounces  judgments  without  necessarily  giving  reasons  lation  to  them 
for  them.  A  bad  argument  is  abhorrent  to  the  logical 
faculty,  a  discord  to  the  aesthetic,  as  an  immoral  act  is 
to  the  moral  sense.  The  pain  felt  is  not  necessarily  in 
proportion  to  the  actual  wrong  done.  Many  a  one  will 
tell  a  lie  without  pain  who  will  suffer  agonies  in  the 
aesthetic  sense  if  a  dress  be  ill  cut,  or  in  the  moral  sense 
if  detected  in  some  petty  meanness,  or  in  saying  some- 
thing out  of  place  at  the  time.  The  pain  felt,  as  we 
shall  see,  is  in  relation  to  the  standard  of  perfection 
in  the  light  of  which  the  abstract  sense  acts. 

In  each  case  we  are  conscious  of  a  fact  of  relation  (net 
a  sensible  or  physical  fact),  which  is  as  self-evident  to  the 
possessor  of  the  faculty,  and  as  clearly  seen,  as  a  visible 

percept     If  we  deny  it  we  deny  ourselves. 

12 


I7«  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Our    ordinary   (special)    senses    are    receptive,    not 
creative   or  authoritative.      The    aesthetic,   logical   and 
moral  senses  are  creative  and  authoritative  ;  they  say 
not  only  what  the  relations  are,  but  what  they  ought  toi 
be  ;  therefore  we  feel  we  are  doing  wrong  if  we  use  a  bad  ( 
argument,   create   discord    in   colours,   sounds,  etc.,   ori 
practise  immoral  acts. 
I       All  these  three  abstract  senses  can  be  educated  and 
/  trained  as  every  other  sense  can  ;  or  they  can  be  neglected, 
\  abused  or  degraded. 

A  fine  school  of  painting  raises  the  aesthetic  sense 
and  makes  a  great  painter,  as  bad  teaching  degrades  it. 
So  with  schools  of  morals.      Conscience  can  be  made 
more  sensitive  and  delicate  and  true,  or  deadened  and  ] 
warped. 

If  conscience   were  in  the  fullest   sense   the   direct 
voice  of  God,  this  were  impossible;  though  the  voice 
might  be  stifled,  it  could  not  then  be  made  to  speak 
falsely. 
Inscrutable  These  three  senses  are  alike  in  another  respect — in 

thrS  Senses,  that  their  origin  is  at  present  entirely  inscrutable.  Why 
should  one  thing  be  beautiful  to  one  and  not  to  another  ? 
The  aesthetic  sense  is  the  most  arbitrary  of  the  three ; 
and  while  colour  in  flowers  is  of  great  value  in  the  insect 
world  and  amongst  birds,  we  can  scarcely  think  that  any 
but  man  truly  possesses  the  aesthetic  sense. 

The  logical  sense  that  makes  axioms,  etc.,  possible  is 
a  reasoning  faculty  whose  origin  is  equally  inscrutable. 

Conscience,  the   moral    sense,    with   its   still    more 
authoritative  voice  and  its  power  of  inflicting  tortures 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE  179 

that  can  neither  be  endured  nor  escaped,  also  defies 
scientific  investigation.  Many  have  affected  to  regard  it 
as  the  result  of  natural  development  through  animals  of 
simple  instincts,  material  morality  following,  and  suc- 
ceeded by  mental  morality ;  but  we  doubt  if  they  them- 
selves are  satisfied  with  the  attempt,  which,  like  many 
similar  ones,  is  ingenious  rather  than  convincing.  Con- 
science in  its  origin  is  as  inscrutable  as  life.  For  both  a 
Creator  must  be  postulated.  Spontaneous  generation  is 
as  great  and  mischievous  a  fiction  in  morals  as  in  bio-  ' 
logy. 

The  simplest,  most  scientific,  and,  we  believe,  the 
truest  account  of  the  three,  and  especially  of  the  moral  . ' 
sense,  is  that  they  are  given  by  God  as  special  endow- 
ments of  man  as  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  creation. 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  it  is  largely  in  the  posses- 
sion  of  these  three  abstract  senses  that  man  is  made  in 
the  likeness  of  God.  They  are  undoubtedly,  speaking 
generally,  the  (subjective)  light  of  men.  "  The  life  was 
the  light  of  men."  ^  That  is  to  say,  life  common  to  all 
organic  creation  in  man  alone  was  of  the  nature  of  a 
light  (of  reason,  of  sense  of  beauty,  of  morality)  by  which 
he  could  see  God. 

So  far  we  have  compared  conscience  with  two  other 
allied  abstract  senses  ;  we  will  now  contrast  it  with  them 
in  some  important  points. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  through  the  moral  Difference  be 
sense  within  us  that  we  are  most  truly  brought  into  relation  sdence^aTd  th« 

other  abstract 
» St.  John  1.4. 


i8»  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

with  God.  The  aesthetic  and  logical  senses  generally 
raise  no  issues  of  spiritual  importance  ;  and  though  they 
help  to  form  character,  have  little  relation  with  it  looked 
at  morally,  in  the  sense  in  which  the  word  is  generally 
used. 

The  aesthetic  and   logical  senses  do  not  go  further 

I  than  man  and  man's  approval ;  the  moral  sense  looks  to 

'  God. 

A  conscientious  man  may  be  described  as  a  moral 
artist ;  but  his  work  is  of  direct  value  not  only  to  man 
but  God,  and  is  not  only  for  time  but  eternity.  This 
relation  with  the  Infinite  (whereas  the  others  are  con- 
nected with  the  finite)  explains  at  once  the  gulf  that 
separates   the   moral   from   the   other   abstract  senses. 

I  Morals,  moreover,  differ  from  art  in  that,  while  in  the 

I  latter  "the  end  justifies  the  means,"  in  the  former  it  does 

Uiot. 

We  do  not  here  claim  for  a  moment  for  conscience 
that  it  is  the  voice  of  God.  It  is  a  gift  of  God,  and  it 
brings  us  into  relationship  with  God.     It  is  not  merely  a 

I  sense  of  good  and  evil,  but  it  is  a  strong  instinct  to  ac- 

l  cept  the  good  and  refuse  the  evil.  It  possesses  an 
authority  beyond  appeal  in  common  with  the  logical  and 
aesthetic  faculties,  all  of  which  have  their  home  and 
origin  in  the  unconscious  mind ;  but  it  goes  beyond  the 
other  two  in  the  penalties  it  inflicts  upon  the  dis- 
obedient Innumerable  suicides  testify  to  the  unendurable 
agonies  of  remorse  inflicted  by  an  outraged  conscience, 
which  have  no  parallel  in  the  action  of  the  other  senses. 
"  Two  things,"  observes  Kant,  "  fill  our  minds  with 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE  i8i 

increasing  wonder  and   reverence — the  starry  heavens 
above,  and  the  moral  law  within." 

Conscience  thus  possesses  us  far  more  than  we  possess 
it.  It  furnishes  moral  axioms  on  which  arguments  can 
be  based  amongst  men.  It  pronounces  judgments  ac- 
cording to  the  standard  before  it,  which  are  binding* 
however,  only  on  the  individual;  so  that  in  this  sense 
each  man  is  a  law  unto  himself,  as  he  acts  according  to 
his  conscience ;  much  evil  always  ensuing  when  he  seeks 
to  impose  this  law  upon  others.     Conscience  is  first  seen  Conscieiwe  b 

^  Moral  Con- 

with  the   recognition   of  the  e^o;   in   short,    with   the  sciousness. 
rise  of  self-consciousness,  for  conscience  is  moral  con-J 
sciousness.      The  infant  at  first  is  guided  by  instinct;' 
to  this,  as  reason  dawns,  is  added  precept ;  and  further 
on,    when    self-consciousness    begins,    the    e£-o    beginsj/ 
to   sit   in  judgment    on    itself,   and    moral    conscious- 
ness becomes  active.     Before  a  child  says  **  I "  it  has  not 
a  distinct  moral  sense.      Then  with  the  "  I  "  comes  at 
once  the  "  ought,"  for  "I"  and  *' ought"  are  Siamese 
twins  that  cannot  be  separated  without  the  death  of  both. 
This  power  of  an  objective  ego  in  sitting  in  judgment 
upon  a  subjective  one  is  exclusively  human. 

Whence  comes  this  mysterious  "  I  ought "  which  en- 
nobles men  and  raises  them  from  the  brutes  that  perish 
— obedience  to  which  determines  the  rise  and  fall  of 
nations  ? 

Surely  we  must  agree  that  either  directly  or  indirectly 
it  is  a  crowning  gift  to  humanity  from  the  Great  Creator. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  home  and  spring  of  all  the 
abstract  senses  lie  deep  in  the  unconscious,  though  con- 


ita  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

science  is  ever  exercised  in  the  fullest  consciousness.    No 
consciousness  is  perhaps  more  vivid,  that  is  not  aroused 
by  our  physical  senses,  than  the  sense  of  right  and  wrong 
produced  by  conscience. 
Conscience  and       We  wiU  now  sce  how  far  conscience  is  connected  > 

Cognition,  .  i        ,  ,  r     i  .1  •  .  ,       • 

Emotion  and    With  the   three   parts  of  the   mind  :    cognition   or   the  \ 

Volition.  .        ,,  .  ,        /•     1.  1        \.  .  ,       ' 

intellect,  emotion  or  the  feelings,  and  volition  or  the 
will. 

1.  In  cognition  we  get  the  intelligence  of  the  moral 
action. 

2.  In  emotion  the  feeling  of  its  value. 

3.  In  volition  the  will  in  carrying  it  out. 

Now,  the  first  part,  the  discerning  or  intelligence  of 
good  and  evil,  is  the  essence  of  the  moral  sense ;  and 
mark,  this  knowledge  is  wholly  involuntary,  and  can  no 
more  be  controlled  by  the  will  than  the  beating  of  the 
heart ;  as  is  the  case  with  all  faculties  that  spring  from 
the  unconscious  mind. 

The  other  abstract  senses  of  aesthetics  and  logic  are 
the  same,  but  the  special  senses  are  not.  We  are  not 
obliged  to  see  or  hear,  but  we  cannot  help  admiration, 
reason,  and  knowing  good  and  evil.  With  conscience 
also  there  is  invariably  a  measure  of  the  second  part — 
emotion.  We  feel  what  is  right  and  its  value,  and  if 
obedient  we  feel  at  peace  ;  if  not,  we  feel  remorse — from 
our  conscience.  Conscience  includes  not  only  knowing, 
but  feeling  of  the  most  acute  kind.  But  here  it  stops : 
the  third  part,  willing  or  volition,  is  no  part  of  conscience 
proper.  We  are  forced  to  know,  but  not  to  do.  If  we 
were,  moral  value  would  cease.     Nothing  that  we  do  in- 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE  183 

voluntarily,  that  is  unconsciously  or  by  force,  can  have 
real  moral  value  attaching  to  it.  That  is  why  true  moral 
action  must  ever  be  conducted  in  consciousness.  Willing 
or  carrying  out  the  decrees  of  the  moral  sense  is  the 
j  action  of  the  e£^Of  and  is  determined  not  by  conscience 
but  character. 

With  regard  to  the  first  two,  greatest  stress  in  con- 
science is  laid  on  cognition  by  Socrates,  Spinoza,  Fichte 
and  Hegel,  and  on  emotion  by  Schiller,  Herbart  and 
J.  Edwards.  Conscientious  people  make  most  of  emo- 
tion, unconscientious  people  of  cognition. 

Conscience  is,  as  we  have  seen,  a  natural  endowment  Conscience  is 

not  the  Voice 

as  inscrutable  in  its  origin  as  our  other  abstract  senses,  of  God. 
but  differing  from  them  inasmuch  as  being  a  discemer 
|of  moral  questions  it  brings  us  into  direct  relation  with 
|the  spiritual  world,  with  God  Himself  (though  it  cannot 
be  said  to  be  in  itself  His  voice)  and  with  eternal  issues. 
Moreover — and  it  is  this  that  is  most  germane  to  our 
subject — it  exercises  by  far  the  most  powerful  influence 
on  the  formation  and  ennobling  of  character. 

It  is,  as  we  have  said,  natural ;  but  it  may  be,  and  is  in  Conscience 
nearly  every  man,  more  or  less  educated.  This  educa-  Educated. 
tion  may  be  natural,  or  partly  or  wholly  artificial.  The 
former  simply  strengthens  and  develops  its  powers  on  its 
original  lines,-  the  latter  distorts  its  faculties  often  to  the 
extent  of  calling  wrong  right  and  right  wrong.  We  wilJ 
consider  (i)  the  natural  conscience,  (2)  the  naturally 
educated  conscience  and  (3)  the  artificial  conscience  as 
explained  above. 

I.  Conspicuous  in  the  natural  conscience  is  the  fact 


i84  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

that  its  verdicts  are  based  upon  love*and  justice,  and  ne\U 
upon   either  alone.     Be  humane,  it  says,  but  be  con- 
sistent.    It  condemns  caprice,  and  it  condemns  selfish- 
ness.    The  moral  ideal  is  to  be  humane  and  reasonable 
at  once.     Now  this  is  most  remarkable,  because  it  has 
been    already   noticed    that   the    most   constant   moral 
qualities  seen  in  the  infant  are  love  and  a  sense  of  justice. 
God  is  love  and  its  Source ;  God  is  light,  and  the  Source  of 
all  righteousness  and  justice.    And  the  little  child  repro- 
duces in  its  unconscious  mind  these  two  g^eat  principles,^ 
from  which  all  good  comes — the  fulfilling  of  the  whole 
law.     And  it  is  on  these  two  Divine  principles  that  the 
natural  conscience  is  founded. 
Conscience  The  natural  conscience  is  perfect  in  action,  but  when 

differs  accord-  i .  i 

ing  to  its         educated  the  value  of  its  verdicts  depends  on  the  per- 

Standards. 

fection  of  its  standards.  Moreover,  in  our  complex 
affairs  almost  every  moral  judgment  is  between  a  better 
and  a  worse,  and  there  are  all  gradations,  both  in  character 
and  in  ethics,  till  we  reach  Divine  perfection.  Truth  for 
instance,  as  we  have  seen,  is  more  often  relative  than 
absolute.  John  Stuart  Mill  holds  that  only  in  England 
is  truthfulness  a  part  of  the  average  man's  moral  ideal. 

The  power  of  the  natural   conscience  is  immense. 
It  is  often  thought  that  the  remorse  it  produces  is  the 
result  of  education.     It  is  not  always  so. 
Conscience  in         Mrs.  F.  Hodgson  Bumett  ^  in  her  autobiography  tells 

Childhood. 

us  of  the  awful  effect  of  conscience  (in  very  early  years 
t  and   under   no   special    training)   when  she    bought  a 

i 

>  F.  H.  Burnett,  The  One  I  Knew  Best  ofAlk 


CHARACTER  AND   CONSCIENCE  1S5 

gingerbread  for  a  halfpenny  on  credit ^  unknown  to  her 
mother.  She  spent  agonies  and  sleepless  nights  in  con- 
sequence, and  yet  her  mother  was  most  kind,  gentle  and 
easy-going,  and  she  knew  she  would  not  be  punished. 

The  natural  conscience  at  different  ages  varies  im 
mensely ;  being  generally  most  acute  before  puberty 
and  gradually  deadening  in  old  age.  That  of  children 
as  we  have  just  seen,  is  very  strong  in  its  sense  of  sin 
and  is  also  severe  in  its  penalties.  This  has  been  proved 
by  Professor  Earl  Barnes  from  the  result  of  questions  put 
to  some  20,000  school  children  in  England  and  America* 
One  question  was:  "  If  a  mother  gave  her  child  some 
\  paints  and  then  left  the  room,  and  the  little  child 
I  painted  all  the  chairs  blue,  what  should  the  mother  do 
\  to  her  when  she  returned  ?  "  The  answers  given  showed 
that  the  younger  the  school  children,  the  heavier  the 
penalties  they  wished  inflicted.  In  the  lowest  standards 
nothing  less  than  corporal  punishment  satisfies  the  of- 
fended conscience.  As  the  children  rose  in  the  school 
so  was  the  penalty  modified,  until  in  the  highest  standard 
punishment  disappeared,  and  the  answer  to  the  question 
was  merely  that  the  child  should  be  remonstrated  with, 
and  shown  its  error. 

The  extreme  severity  of  the  younger  children's 
sentence  may  be  partly  due  to  the  innate  cruelty  in 
childhood,  as  well  as  to  an  exaggerated  idea  of  the 
young  artist's  sin. 

There  is  a  difference  in  the  sexes  as  to  conscience,  conscience  ii 
Its  range  is  greater  in  the  woman  than  the  man,  though  Women, 
more  easily  disregarded.     Men   are,  in  a   sense,  more 


rfM  SPRINGS  OP  CHARACTER 

conscientious,  that  is,  though  their  conscience  does  not 
speak  so  often,  they  heed  it  more  when  it  does  speak. 
We  have  said  that  the  standard  by  which  it  speaks  is  not 
the  same  in  both  sexes  ;  for  while  the  rightness  of  the 
end  is  more  prominent  before  a  woman  than  the  justice 
of  the  means,  in  the  man  there  is  more  particularity 
about  the  means  than  about  the  end.  To  attain  a  truly 
*  desirable  and  legitimate  end  a  woman  may  use  means 

that  might  at  times  offend  the  conscience  of  a  man  ;  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  a  man  is  often  less  pure  in  his  aims 
and  more  selfish,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  more  scrupu- 
lous about  the  means  used,  which  must  not  offend  his 
conscience.  We  would  not  state  this  too  dogmatically,  for 
indeed  the  whole  issue  may  be  contested  by  many.  Most 
will,  however,  agree  on  the  two  main  points — that  the 
standard  in  conscience  in  the  sexes  is  not  exactly  alike, 
being  higher  for  women  than  men,  and  that  women  are 
less  scrupulous  in  obeying  its  voice  than  men. 

The  moral  faculty  is  naturally  stable,  but  of  course 
varies  with  its  standards  when  educated.  Hence  it 
varies  in  action  greatly  in  individuals,  the  collective 
average  being  much  more  trustworthy,  showing  the  com- 
mon natural  moral  basis  that  exists. 
Education  of  2  and  3.  Turning  to  the  education  of  conscience,  this 

may  be  good    is  surely  both  racial  and  individual.     Moral  ideas,  as  we 
know  them  to-day  in  common  speech,  are  the  product  of 
I  a  long  course  of  development ;  though  the  natural  foun- 
dations are  never  lost  sight  of. 

Not   only  the   right   and  natural  education  of  con- 
science is  racial,  but  also  the  artificial  and  false  as  well. 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIBNCB  Of 

We  believe  that  history  as  clearly  shows  that  cruel 
perversions  of  the  moral  sense  have  been  transmitted 
for  generations,  as  that  in  Christendom  conscience  has 
continuously  developed  in  sensitiveness  and  its  standards 
of  right  and  wrong.  The  artificial  conscience  is  indeed 
a  baneful  product.  By  the  term  we  do  not  of  course 
mean  that  a  conscience  is  artificially  produced,  but  that 
the  moral  sense  is  so  perverted  by  wrong  training  as 
to  be  made  to  respond  to  false  standards.  These  gener-  » 
ally  pose  as  true,  often  as  Divine,  and  the  difficulty  of 
distinguishing  the  counterfeit  from  the  real  is  a  great 
source  of  distress  to  conscientious  people,  and  a  great 
cause  of  evil  in  the  world. 

The  artificial  conscience  is  obviously  never  natural ;  Artificial  and 
but  it  may,  as  we  have  said,  be  passed  on  from  parent  Consciences, 
to  child,  though  of  course  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
distinguish  such  cases  from  very  early  unconscious  im- 
pressions. Nevertheless,  as  other  mental  acquirements 
are  undoubtedly  handed  on,  an  artificial  conscience  may 
be  among  the  number. 

Both  the  artificial  and  natural  education  of  con-, 
sciences  may  be  conducted  consciously  or  (mainly) 
unconsciously,  and  both  may  be  carried  on  together ;  in 
which  case  it  is  most  difficult  to  decide  what  is  natural 
and  what  artificial  in  the  moral  sense,  what  is  Divine 
and  what  human. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  a  purely  natural  conscience,  or  Rarity  of  a 
even  an  acquired  one  wholly  on  natural  lines,  is  so  rare  Conscience. 
a    product   as   almost  to   be  unknown,  at   any  rate   in 
anything  approaching  civilised  life.     The  tendency  to 


i88  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

form  an  artificial  conscience,  or  to  adulterate  the  pure 
conscience  with  artificial  elements,  is  overwhelming :  the 
one  runs  imperceptibly  into  the  other. 

Observe,  for  instance,  the  seriousness  and  gravity 
that  is  the  natural  standard  of  moral  behaviour  in  the 
presence  of  solemn  or  Divine  things.  To  this  is  rapidly 
added  by  the  Puritan  the  immorality  of  gladness  or 
pleasure  as  such ;  so  that  the  simplest  and  most  inno- 
cent amusements  produce  an  uneasy  conscience,  simply 
because  its  standard  has  become  artificial. 
Evils  of  an  The  conscience  of  a  child  is  most  easily  affected; 

sirtifici&l 

Conscience,  indeed  a  child  seems  to  crave  for  artificial  standards. 
These  may  be  supplied  by  mere  suggestion  or  by  artificial 
parental  rules  (necessary  perhaps)  or  by  the  customs  and 
practices  of  the  nursery.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  moral 
sense  is  so  vigorous  in  the  child  that  it  almost  seems  to 
crave  occasions  to  exercise  its  activity.  One  of  the  most 
important  points  to  observe  in  the  education  of  children 
J  is  to  avoid  setting  up  or  suggesting  artificial  standards 
'  of  right  and  wrong.  An  artificial  conscience  thus  created 
in  a  child  and  obeyed  for  a  few  years  may  be  a  great 
bar  to  its  happiness  in  after  life ;  for,  curiously  enough, 
the  moral  sense  is  so  imperative  that  it  keenly  resents 
being  slighted,  and  the  consequences  are  almost  2^s 
morally  disastrous,  though  of  course  the  sin  is  not  the 
same,  when  the  standard  is  artificial  as  when  it  is 
natural. 

The  social  artificial  standards  by  which  consciences 
are  ruled  are  themselves  the  sum  of  the  individual  stand- 
ards that  are  found   in  society ;   and  they  are   ever 


CHARACTER  AND   CONSCIENCE  189 

changing.  A  person  may  do  a  thing  with  a  good 
conscience  one  year,  and  with  a  bad  one  the  next. 

For  instance,  in  this  closing  year  of  the  nineteenth 
century  pleasure  generally  is  considered  less  sinful  than 
formerly,  while  excess  at  table  decidedly  more  so. 

In  the  East  a  woman  has  a  bad  conscience  who 
shows  her  face,  in  the  West  if  she  shows  her  limbs. 

With  regard  to  conscience  there  is  in  weak  natures  a 
great  love  of  submitting  it  to  the  moral  standards  of 
others.  It  is  so  much  easier  to  adopt  a  ready-made 
standard  than  to  make  one  or  discern  one  for  oneself. 

In  a  general  way,  of  course,  the  standards  of  the 
social  circles  in  which  we  move  must  be  accepted  and 
conformed  to,  and  no  one  is  justified,  unless  these  fla- 
grantly contravene  the  natural  laws  of  morality,  in  setting 
up  a  counter  standard  of  his  own.  But  we  are  speaking 
of  cases  where  one  individual  leans  on  another;  and 
perhaps  still  more  of  those  cases  where  a  person  seeks, 
not  only  to  live  by  another's  standard,  but  by  another's 
moral  sense.  If  another  thinks  any  particular  course 
wrong  his  weak  nature  proceeds  to  direct  his  conduct 
accordingly,  though  he  himself  does  not  see  the  wrong. 
This  can  only  be  described  as  parasitic  morality,  and  Parasitic 

Moralitf. 

is  the  death-blow  to  an  independent  healthy  moral  life. 
These  moral  parasites  abound,  and  nowhere  more  than 
in  the  religious  world ;  singular  to  say  people  are  by  no 
means  content  to  walk  by  the  light  God  and  His  word 
may  have  afforded  them,  but  are  eternally  supplement- 
ing these,  to  their  own  moral  degradation,  with  the  light 
Touchsafed  to  others,  and  by  the  codes  (largely  artificial) 


igo  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

of  those  whom  they  think  more  holy  than  themselves. 
It  is  worthy  of  notice  in  this  connection  that  in  St. 
Matthew  xxiii.  8-10  there  is  a  special  warning  against 
this  tendency  (pointing  not  obscurely  to  the  Roman 
confessional).  "Call  no  man  your  spiritual  director" 
{Ka6i]y7jTtj<i). 

No  doubt  others  may  have  standards  in  advance  of 
one's  own  ;  but  one's  progress,  however,  does  not  consist 
in  adopting  theirs ;  but  in  looking  at  the  grounds  upon 
which  it  rests,  and,  if  one  be  convinced  of  their  superi- 
ority, adopting  the  new  standard,  not  in  the  least  be- 
cause it  is  followed  by  others,  but  because  one's  moral 
sense  approves  its  excellence,  and  it  thus  becomes  one's 
own. 
False  religious  False  religious  standards  make  the  most  dangerous 
artificial  consciences,  and  history  shows  the  base  part 
they  have  played  from  St.  Paul  to  the  present  day.  The 
"good  conscience"  of  which  he  speaks  was  a  good  arti- 
ficial one ;  for  nothing  but  the  traditions  of  the  scribes 
and  Pharisees  justified  him  in  hauling  men  and  women 
to  prison  who  followed  Christ 

Above  all  we  must  seek  never  to  impose  our  own 
standards  of  morals  upon  others.   We  can  appeal  to  theirs, 
^  and  try  and  find  them  out,  but  to  impose  ours  on  them 
lis  to  take  away  their  moral  freedom. 

"To  him  that  knoweth  to  do  good  and  doeth  it  not,  to 
him  it  is  sin."  But  if  he  does  not  know  it  ?  My  moral 
sense  must  be  limited  by  my  standard,  and  if  I  act  by 
other  people's  moral  sense,  no  moral  value  attaches  to 
my  act 


CHARACTER   AND   CONSCIENCE  191 

Conscience,  of  course,  like  the  other  abstract  senses,  states  of 

Conscience. 

is  found  in  every  variety  of  condition.  It  may  be  bad  or 
good,  dead,  callous,  sluggish,  hardened,  seared,  dormant^ 
morbid,  active,  sensitive,  hypersensitive,  uneasy,  accus-\ 
ing,  excusing,  condemning,  blunted,  peaceful,  pacified, 
purified,  defiled,  approving,  upbraiding,  remorseful,  and 
so  on. 

A  conscience  at  rest  is  when  it  is  not  in  exercise  00 
any  question,  but  is  in  a  condition  instantly  to  respond ; 
a  dormant  conscience  is  one  not  only  at  rest,  but  asleep, 
and  needs  rousing ;  a  sluggish  conscience  is  one  which, 
when  roused,  acts  slowly ;  a  blunted  conscience  has  had 
its  edge  taken  off  by  familiarity  with  allowed  evil;  a 
hardened  conscience  was  once  sensitive,  but  has  become 
unresponsive  owing  to  constant  neglect  of  its  suggestions; 
a  callous  conscience  is  a  confirmed  case  of  hardening ;  a 
seared  conscience  is  one  where  the  hardening  is  due  to 
some  striking  and  fearful  neglect  of  some  solemn  warn- 
ing ;  a  dead  conscience  is  one  that  is  no  longer  responsive 
to  any  call. 

A  peaceful  conscience  is  one  that  finds  no  occasion 
to  disapprove  of  actions  void  of  offence  before  God  and 
man  ;  an  uneasy  conscience  is  one  that  is  not  decided 
on  the  moral  right  or  wrong  of  an  action ;  an  active 
conscience  explains  itself,  as  do  the  accusing,  excusing, 
condemning  and  approving  consciences. 

A  sensitive  conscience  is  one  in  a  bright  light,  to 
which  it  instantly  responds  ;  a  hypersensitive  is  an  exag- 
gerated form  of  this  ;  a  morbid  conscience  is  one  where 
this  has  become  a  confirmed  condition;  2i pacified  con- 


iga  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

science  is  one  when  the  will  has  given  in  to  its  mandates ; 
an  upbraiding  conscience  is  where  such  is  not  the  case ; 
a  remorseful  conscience  is  one  that  gives  its  owner  no 
rest  in  its  persistent  upbraidings ;  a  defiled  conscience 
is  one  which  has  been  compelled  to  compromise  with 
sin  ;  a  purified  conscience  is  where  the  return  to  a  right 
condition  has  been  effected ;  a  bad  conscience  is  one 
under  the  active  sense  of  the  transgression  of  moral  law  ; 
a  good  conscience  may  be  the  passive  or  active  sense  of 
obedience  to  the  law  which  forms  its  standard. 

A  morbid  conscience  is  terrible,  and  is  common  in 
overstrained  nervous  temperaments,  in  those  religions 
where  introspection  is  excessive,  and  in  the  very  early 
stages  of  religious  and  other  mania.  I  have  seen  a 
patient  walk  up  to  my  house,  and  stop  and  stoop  down 
in  the  carriage  drive ;  and  on  my  asking  him  the  reason, 
he  explained  he  had  kicked  one  of  the  pebbles  out  of 
its  place,  which  he  had  no  right  to  do,  and  could  not 
go  on  till  he  had  restored  it  to  its  position. 
Evils  of  a  bad         The  most  painful  condition  is  a  remorseful  conscience, 

Conscience.  i 

and  often  surpasses  any  physical  agony.      It  tortures' 
like  the  rack ;  and  has  driven  hundreds  to  suicide,  and 
thousands  to  repentance,  reform  and  restitution. 

The  most  hopeless  condition  is  the  deadened  or  dead 
conscience. 

The  accelerating  rate  with  which  moral  light  not 
obeyed  may  recede,  the  moral  sense  become  deadened, 
and  sin  cease  to  be  sinful  is  positively  startling.  This 
rapid  darkening  and  eclipse  of  the  moral  sun  produces 
a  deeper  awe  than  the  blackness  of  the  sin  itself. 


CHARACTER   AND   CONSCIENCE  193 

When  a  man  has  extinguished  the  moral  sense  he) 
has  silenced  the  voice  of  God  within  him. 

"  No  worse  idea  of  evil  spirits,"  says  Dr.  Martineau, 
"can  be  formed  than  this,  that  they  relentlessly  exer- 
cise the  resources  of  an  intellectual  nature  for  their  own 
ends,  without  any  hindrance  from  moral  distinctions,  or 
owning  any  law  but  that  of  self-will." 

In  saying  all  this  we  must  preserve  the  balance  of  Conscience 
truth  by  pointing  out  that  though  conscience,  in  a  sense,  Guide. 
is  our  guide,  the  value  of  its  guidance  depends  entirely 
on  the  standard  we  set  up  before  it,  in  addition  to  that 
to  which  it  naturally  responds. 

Conscience  guides  me,  but  what  guides  conscience  ? 
is  now  our  inquiry  ;  and  it  will  be  seen  when  we  reach 
the  heart  of  the  question,  that  inasmuch  as  the  e^o  is 
not  a  system  or  a  principle  but  a  personality,  so  that 
which  should  rule  it  must  not  be  abstractions  or  systems, 
but  a  personality — God. 

Spiritual  laws  for  social  welfare  are  everywhere  felt 
and  recognized,  though  no  one  makes  them.  Related 
minds,  classes  of  people,  fellow-countrymen,  children, 
members  of  similar  professions,  all  have  thus  common 
grounds  by  these  laws. 

The  standard  for  conscience  is,  however,  either  made 
by  God,  by  man  (society),  by  oneself,  or  is  inherent, 
which  to  us  is  equivalent  to  the  first  alternative.  To 
disobey  the  first  or  last  standards  is  sin,  to  disobey  the 
others  not  necessarily  so. 

Each  one  creates  for  himself  a  permanent  individual  Artificial  mocid 

Standards. 

moral  ideal  which  also  acts  as  a  standard.     It  is  the 

13 


194  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

image  of  the  sort  of  man  we  think  we  ought  to  be.     If  \ 
we  live  up  to  it  the  conscience  is  at  rest ;  if  not,  we  / 
are   uneasy.      Artificial   standards   are   created  by  the 
*«  .man  himself,  by  public  life,  school  and  university  life, 
business  and  professional  life,  by  the  services,  by  clubs, 
by  churches,  by  society  cliques,  by  newspapers.     The 
ideal   or  standard  of  professional  morality  or  business 
morality  notoriously  differs  from    private   morality,   so 
that  people  are  said  with  much  truth  to  have  two  distinc-\ 
tive  consciences,  one  for  home  use,  and  another  for  the  / 
daily  work  or  office.     That  is  to  say  the  moral  faculty 
is  called  to  respond  to  two  distinct  standards  at  different 
hours  of  the  day  in  the  same  person.     It  is,  of  course, 
a  truism  to  say  there  can  be  but  one  right  standard. 

It  is  more  important  to  observe  that  both  standards 
are  probably  more  or  less  artificial,  but  that  the  business 
one  is  almost  certain  to  be  the  more  corrupted. 
Low  Standards       This  Corruption  is  not  without  its  defenders  as  being 

of  Morality  in  .         ,  ,  ,  ,      .  .. 

Business.  necessary  m  the  present  day  to  the  accumulation  of 
wealth.  We  have,  indeed,  men  who  have  nobly  stood 
out  against  this  pernicious  doctrine,  men  of  weight 
and  practical  experience,  and  who  have  endeavoured 
in  the  main  to  carry  on  their  businesses  on  good  moral 
principles  current  in  ordinary  life.  But  the  very  nobility 
and  interest  that  attaches  to  such  men  is  in  itself,  alas ! 
evidence  of  their  rarity ;  and  we  greatly  fear  the  larger 
number  accept  the  double  standard  as  a  necessary  evil 
— and  use  it 

On  the  other  hand,  in  some  professions  the  moral 
ideal  is  excessively  high,  calling  one  to  lay  down  one's 


CHARACTER   AND  CONSCIENCE  195 

very  life  for  one's  duty  ;  and  it  is  probably  this  element, 

that  can  be  discerned  more  or  less  in  the  services  and  in 

the  medical  profession,  that  has  always  surrounded  them 

with  a  special  distinction. 

A  deliberate  lowering  of  the  standard  of  conscience 

is  a  moral  catastrophe,  and  the  prelude  to  the  downfall 

of  the   soul,   not   the  less  so   because   the  standard   is 

lowered  for  the  love  of  money.     The  danger  is  that  a 

man  "  may  forget  or  deny  the  existence  of  immaterial  j 

ends  at   all,  not  from   the  temptation    to   plunge   into  ; 

licence,  but  from  absorption  in  that* virtuous  materialism' 

which  is  even  more  deadly  ".^ 

The  present  condition  of  the  commercial  standard  of  Serious  Dangt 
,.       .  .  .        ,.        ,  .  ofthis. 

morality  is  a  most  serious  question   for  this  country ; 

for  business  is  gradually  predominating  over  all  other 
human  activities.  Wars  themselves  are  now  largely 
waged  on  commercial  grounds,  and  commerce  is  more 
powerful  than  rank,  or  art,  or  science. 

The  standard  by  which  the  pursuit  of  money  is  con- 
ducted, as  this  pursuit  gets  more  and  more  the  absorbing 
passion  of  mankind,  will  naturally  become  more  and 
more  universal,  and  all  will  agree  that  there  could  not  be 
a  greater  downfall  for  humanity  than  .the  universal  lower-\ 
ing  of  the  common  moral  standard  of  life  to  the  com-  ^ 
mercial  level. 

We  naturally  ask,   therefore,   "  why  should  not  the  its  Cause  aik 

Core, 
standard  in  buying  and  selling  be  as  high  as  in  other 

professions,  and  as  great  pride  be  taken  in  maintaining 

1  M'Cunn,  The  Making  of  Character^  p.  X09. 


196  SPRINGS   OF  CHARACTER 

its  morality  and  honour  as  in  fighting,  or  ruh'ng,  or 
healing  ?  "  The  real  difficulty  appears  to  lie  not  so  much 
in  competition,  for  that  rages  fiercely  in  the  professions 
where  the  standards  are  much  loftier,  as  in  the  wholly 
selfish  nature  of  the  pursuits.  In  other  professions  there 
is  even  an  element  of  unselfishness,  but  the  pursuit  of 
money  seems  to  foster  the  lower  and  stifle  the  higher 
instincts.  It  is  the  "love  of  money,"  not  money  per  se, 
that  is  the  "  root  of  all  evil  ". 

In  spite  of  this  we  are  not  without  hope  that  the 
standard  will  b^  gradually  raised  ,  and  nothing  could 
conduce  more  to  the  welfare  of  our  country  and  to  our 
true  prosperity  than  this.  I  do  not  say  England  may 
not  compare  favourably  with  many  other  nations  :  but 
that  is  not  the  question.  "  It  is  precisely,"  says  M'Cunn, 
"  in  the  sphere  of  .  .  .  commerce  that  ideals  are  most 
needed  to  uplift  the  practice  of  the  world  ;  and  unless 
those  who  lead  these  find  time  besides  commercial 
ambitions  for  moral  ideals,  the  life  of  citizenship  will 
remain  the  imperfect  school  of  virtue  we  have  seen  it  to 
be."i 

The  improvement  cannot  be  forced.  It  must  take 
place  by  the  increased  pressure  of  public  opinion,  and  of 
the  diffusion  and  power  of  Christian  principles. 

If  business  morality  were  once  raised  to  the  level  of 
true  Christian  morality,  most  of  our  great  labour  pro- 
blems would  be  solved,  as  well  as  many  others  which  are 
solely  due  to  this  perversion  of  the  moral  sense. 

*  M*Cunn,  The  Making  of  CharacUr,  p.  125. 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE  197 

Returning  to  the  analysis  of  conscience,  all  our  senses  Senses  and 

Sensations. 

whether  common,  special,  or  abstract,  have  their  appro- 
priate sensations.  In  common  sensations  we  thus  get 
pain  and  pleasure :  in  the  special  senses  we  get  sight  or 
blindness,  hearing  or  deafness  :  in  the  mental  sensations, 
taking  the  negatives — vanity  may  be  mortified,  love 
chilled,  pride  humbled,  hope  disappointed,  modesty 
shamed.  In  the  same  way  the  conscience  may  prick  or 
approve  or  condemn  us. 

This  preliminary  **  prick  "  is  the  voice  of  conscience 
rousing  us  ;  and  the  approval  or  condemnation  is  the 
voice  or  sensation  of  conscience  pronouncing  on  the 
action  that  caused  it  to  '*  prick  ". 

The  conscience,  if  dormant,  is  first  awakened  by  some 
word,  or  thought,  or  deed,  and  then  it  speaks.  If  not 
dormant,  it  speaks  without  delay. 

Conscience  has  from  its  moral  sense — perception  and  The  three 

*    Voices. 

judgment :  from  its  sense  of  duty — obligation  or  precept. 

When  the  social  standard  is  the  only  one  that  speaks, 
and  the  divine  and  personal  standards  are  silent,  con- 
science sometimes  does  not  speak  till  aroused  by  the 
voice  or  opinion  of  others.  Thus  many  are  not  dis- 
turbed in  conscience  till  they  are  found  out ;  while  the 
most  shameless,  being  dead  altogether,  not  even  then. 

Of  the  three  voices,  the  voice  of  God  is  the  most 
important  to  the   moral  being,  then  the  voice  of  the     ^*^^ 
g^o  or  self,  and  lastl)^  the  voice  of  others. 

It  is  sometimes  easier  to  satisfy  the  social  standard 
than  the  other  two ;  it  is  generally,  however,  easier  to 
satisfy  the  personal  than  the  social  standard. 


.i-<: 


igB  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

God  speaki  It  should  again  be  repeated  here  emphatically  that  in 

through 

Conscience,  no  sense  is  conscience  in  itself  the  voice  of  God.  As 
well  may  a  piano  be  said  to  be  the  voice  of  Paderewski. 
It  is  the  instrument  through  which  he  can  express  him- 
self; but  if  played  upon  by  a  school  girl,  it  responds 
with  equal  facility  to  her  crudities  as  to  the  fine  touch  of 
the  master.  "  Conscience  is  that  faculty  which  may  be 
brought  into  contact  with  the  will  of  God  "  (Canon 
Gore).  It  is  that  sense  through  which  God  can  and 
does  directly  speak  to  the  soul  of  man,  through  which 
His  will  can  be  impressed  on  the  heart.  Conscience 
alone  convicts  of  sin,  and  reveals  its  power,  its  stain,  its 
guilt.  Naturally,  it  is  endowed  with  the  power  of  dis- 
tinguishing broadly  between  right  and  wrong ;  but  arti- 
ficially, it  may  be  perverted  to  any  extent 

When  it  speaks  it  is  inexorable :  no  external  con- 
siderations can  change  its  decrees.  It  may  be  obeyed  or 
disobeyed,  but  cannot  be  cajoled  ;  and  the  penalties  it 
exacts  for  disobedience  are  frequently  truly  awful. 

The  Pricking  The  amount  of  pain  we  suffer  from  conscience  is  due 

to  two  factors :  the  intensity  of  the  light  brought  to  bear 
upon  it,  and  the  earnestness  of  our  will  in  a  right  direction. 
The  first  case  we  find  illustrated  is  those  sinners  who 
have  no  feeling  or  care  whatever  until  a  bright  light  is 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  conscience.  It  is  then  alone — 
not  when  the  deed  is  done,  but  when  they  are  convicted 
of  it — that  they  are  "pricked  in  their  hearts".  The 
second  is  found  in  an  opposite  class  of  earnest  moral  and 
earnest  religious  people  with  high  ideals,  who  suffer  their 
pain  from  falling  short  of  their  aim. 


CHARACTER   AND   CONSCIENCE  199 

In  fact  and  in  brief,  the  pain  produced  by  conscience 
in  the  hardened  and  careless  is  due  to  external  causes — 
the  intensity  of  the  light — while  the  pain  experienced  by 
the  earnest  is  due  to  internal  causes — falling  short  of 
their  ideal. 

Now  the  pain  felt,  as  we  have  previously  shown,  bears 
no  proportion  to  the  amount  of  error  or  sin.  A  man  in 
the  service  may  commit  various  breaches  of  the  deca- 
logue and  be  not  nearly  so  much  upset  as  if  he  find  out 
he  has  broken  one  of  the  Queen's  regulations  or  the  un- 
written laws  of  the  mess. 

The  pain  is  most  felt  in  connection  with  that  life  and  Pain  is  in  Pro 

portion  to  th 

standard  for  which  the  man  or  woman  lives.     If  this  be  Value  set  on 

the  Ideal. 

that  of  the  social  world,  that  is  the  tender  spot ;  if  it  be 
his  profession,  it  is  there  he  suffers ;  if  it  be  his  country, 
to  be  a  traitor  is  the  deadliest  sin ;  if  the  life  be 
Christian,  and  the  standard  the  will  of  God,  it  may  be 
sin  unknown  to  any  but  God  that  may  cause  the  deepest 
pain. 

Conscience  acts  according  to  general  laws,  but  only 
in  particular  instances ;  it  does  not  lay  down  principles, 
though  they  move  it. 

Besides  right  and  wrong  in  action,  there  is  a  large  The  Neutm' 
neutral  zone  where  these  questions  do  not  enter.  No 
doubt  theoretically  everything  must  be  relatively  right  or 
wrong,  but  practically  it  is  not  so.  We  do  not  praise  our 
butler  for  not  carrying  off  our  spoons,  and  our  con- 
science does  not  condemn  us  if  we  happen  to  walk  on  the 
wrong  side  of  the  pavement 

Conscience  does  not  speak  of  what  was,  or  is,  or  will  Moral  Sense. 


aoo  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

be,  but  what  ou£-kt  to  be.  There  is  no  real  logical  basis 
to  the  "  ought,"  or  why  "  ought "  is  **  ought,"  any  more  than 
there  is  for  the  idea  of  beauty.  It  is  an  inherent  sense, 
but  its  power  on  individuals  and  even  nations  is  amazing. 
It  is  the  moral  sense  that  really  control's  New  York  and 
London  ;  not  the  police  or  the  laws.  For  this  "  ought " 
men  have  been  burnt  and  racked  and  torn  asunder,  and 
in  all  ages  have  "  suffered  for  conscience'  sake "  ;  and 
even  in  the  vilest  of  men  its  voice  is  heard.  Conscience 
shows  the  right  way,  but  gives  no  power  to  follow  it ; 
the  more  sensitive  the  conscience  the  more  need  is  there 
to  have  power  to  follow  its  leadings ;  and  this  can  only 
be  found  in  a  character  of  high  Christian  principle.  To 
be  "strengthened  with  all  might  by  His  Spirit  in  the 
inner  man  "  (t.e,y  unconscious  mind)  is  really  the  formation 
of  this  character. 

The  action  of  conscience,  even  when  normal,  may  be 
slow  in  slow  temperaments ;  but  as  a  rule  it  is  so  quick  as 
to  seem  instantaneous,  simply  because  it  is  not  the  result 
of  conscious  reason,  which  always  requires  time,  but  of 
intuitive  perception  that  wants  none. 

The  conscience  goes  behind  the  deed  itself,  and  sits 
in  judgment  on  the  motives  that  prompted  the  acts,  and 
often  drags  these  to  light,  to  the  dismay  of  its  owner. 

In  conclusion  we  will  give  one  or  two  maxims  before 
we  finally  consider  the  effects  of  conscience  on  character. 

We  should  always  seek  that  the  conscience  should  be 
enlightened  and  its  standards  raised,  but  we  should  never 
sin  against  it,  even  when  the  standard  is  artificial :  that 
is,  we  should  never  do  what  we  believe  to  be  wrong.     It 


CHARACTER  AND  CONSCIENCE  l.^i    901  '.    v.^ 

/'■^  I 
may  not  be  wrong,  but  we  may  feel  it  is.     On  the  other        ,.»''^n^>^ 

hand,  a  course  of  action  may  de  wrong  and  we  may  n^pt,^  \  V^'o 

know  it,  and  look  back  on  our  past  conduct  with  added""' 

light.     We  may  not  approve  the  act,  but  we  feel   no, 

remorse,  because   we  recognise   that  at   the   time   our| 

motive  and  acts  were  in  accordance  to  the  standard  wcj 

then  had. 

Two  more  maxims  :  "  Happy  is  he  that  condemneth 
not  himself  in  that  which  he  alloweth  ". 

'*  To  him  that  knoweth  to  do  good,  and  doeth  it  not|^ 
to  ktm  it  is  sin." 

The  effects  that  flow  from  a  good  conscience  are 
summed  up  in  the  mens  sibi  conscia  recti^  which  is  a  high 
and  sufficient  reward.  **  Given  a  sound  (moral)  judg- 
ment," says  Aristotle,  **and  all  the  virtues  will  flow  in 
its  train."  1 

Peace  flows  the  moment  the  path  of  duty  is  discovered 
and  followed  amidst  conflicting  alternatives. 

The   principles    on  which    conscience   acts  are   the  Principles  <m 
principles  of  character,  and  may  be  grouped  as  follows: —  scienoe  Acts. 

Self-sacrifice^  Self -reverence, — These  two  neutralise 
individual  selfishness,  and  are  the  complements  of  each 
other. 

Righteousness y  Love, — These  two  neutralise  social 
selfishness,  and  are  the  complements  of  each  other,  and 
express  the  Divine  character. 

From  all  that  has  been  said  on  conscience  it  needs 
but  few  words  to  show  how  largely  in  all  moral  worth 

>  AriMotle,  £«A»f«,  vL,  cadii.,  pb  & 


^  i  aoa    ^^^  :  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

\\%\        chg^mfet^r  depends    upon    the    right    education   of  and 
%^^<f^  g'vjO^btedience  to  this  marvellous  sense. 

'/jjDin^    \^e  can  see  also  by  comparison  with  the  other  abstract 
senses  the  bearing  on  conscience  or  character. 

A  painter  paints  under  the  guidance  of  his  aesthetic 
sense — as  arbitrary  in  its  way  as  conscience.  The 
aesthetic  sense  itself  is  educated  in  schools  of  art,  which 
provide  standards,  and  the  result  is  twofold.  Works  are 
produced  (acts),  and  a  style  or  character  is  formed  which 
stamps  the  artist,  and  becomes  a  part  of  himself. 

So  with  the  moral  sense.  Obeyed,  good  acts  follow, 
and,  sinking  into  the  unconscious  mind,  the  character 
itself  is  ennobled  with  each  such  act.  Disobeyed,  evil 
results,  the  character  deteriorates,  and  the  man  himself 
is  defiled.  On  the  other  hand,  the  practical  value  of 
a  conscience  depends  upon  the  character,  just  as  the 
character  depends  on  the  conscience. 
Conscience  The  bcst  conscience  in  the  world  soon  becomes  value- 

and  Character.  ,      .,  ,  ,  i  .  i  .t< 

less  and- Silent  and  useless  unless  there  be  a  will  pro-_ 
ceeding  from  a  formed  character  to  carry  out  its  decrees. 

It  is   this   that   is   the   main   difficulty,  and  herein 

^consists  the   power  of  a  virtuous  character  formed   in 

f  early  life,  and  herein  is  seen  the  enormous  value  of  the 

inward  energy  of  God's  Spirit  in  fortifying  our  will  in  a 

right  direction. 

Character  seems  to  be  the  bank  in  the  unconscious 
mind  on  which  conscience  draws.  If  the  deposit  be  small 
in  the  bank  of  character  it  soon  becomes  exhausted,  and 
the  cheques  of  conscience  are  dishonoured. 

The  right  use  of  each  of  our  senses  has  its  good 


CHARACTER   AND   CONSCIENCE  203 

effect  on  character ;  but  the  right  use  of  the  moral  sense 
far  transcends  all  the  others  put  together. 

Conscience,  we  see,  does  not  make  a  man  virtuous 
unless  he  follow  it.  Peace  of  heart  or  conscience, 
moreover,  never  is  attained  by  making  it  an  object,  but 
by  obeying  its  voice.  "  A  good  man,"  says  the  "  wise 
man,"  "shall  be  satisfied  in  himself."^ 

The  records  of  conscience  too  are  lasting,  whether  for 
or  against  us.    Every  good  act  builds  up  and  strengthens  i 
the  character  by  the  approving  verdict  of  conscience  ;  1 
and  every  idle  word  weakens  it  by  its  condemnation. 

The  end  and  sanction  indeed  of  conscience  is  the 
perfecting  of  self  and  others  in  the  order  of  a  perfect 
life. 

"They   who   will   do    His   will   shall    know   of  the 
doctrine."     The  moral  order  is  not  made,  but  gradually^ 
revealed  and  discovered.     The  horizon  of  duty  recedes 
as  we  advance,  and  ever  leads  us  onwards  and  upwards. 

The  effects  of  acting  conscientiously  may,  however,  Obeying  Con- 

'n  rw^,  r  ,  science  may 

mvolve  much  sacrifice.  The  conduct  of  many  affairs  involve  much 
may  have  to  be  altered,  and  perhaps  some  callings 
abandoned  altogether ;  though  we  believe  where  the 
conscience  is  healthy  and  not  morbid  this  will  be  rare. 
I  know  one  case  where  the  senior  partner  in  a  large 
business  of  a  special  nature  had  to  resign  between  ten  to 
twenty  thousand  pounds  a  year  for  conscience'  sake. 
Protestants  have  often  had  to  give  up  all  they  possessed 
to  keep  a  good  conscience.  Self-interest  (apparent)  and 
the  moral  law  are  often  in  opposition,  and  it  is  the  right 
*  Prov.  xiv.  14. 


204  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

choice  between  the  two  that  makes  the  man.  The 
honest  man  must  have  motives  and  acts  that  will  stand 
self-examination.  Intellectual  honesty  demands  self- 
criticism.  The  honest  man  will  forego  pleasure,  will 
suffer  pain  and  loss  for  truth  and  consistency.  On 
the  other  hand,  a  man  is  considered  mean  and  con- 
temptible who,  having  done  wrong,  seeks  to  justify 
himself;  the  reason  being  that  the  consciences  of  his 
critics  condemn  him,  and  they  know  that  his  own  con- 
science has  done  the  same,  or  ought  to  have,  according  to 
a  common  standard ;  and  that  he  must  be  self-condemned 
therefore  all  the  time,  and  his  effort  at  justification 
neither  true  nor  honest. 

Conscience  shuts  us  up  to  one  life  if  we  would  know 
inward  peace,  and  that  life  is  obedience  to  its  voice  ;  and 
if  it  be  a  conscience  whose  standard  is  the  highest  and 
Divine,  its  voice  will  then  be  the  voice  of  God  within  ; 
and  the  life  will  be  eternal,  and  the  peace  enjoyed,  that 
of  God  "  which  passes  all  understanding  ". 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

CHARACTER  AND  CHRISTIANITY. 

We  now  turn  to  a  consideration  of  supreme  importance 
at  the  present  time,  and  that  is  the  connection  of  char- 
acter with  Christianity. 

We  have  indicated  already  in  various   places   that  Christianity 

^  and  Modem 

very  many  views  are  held  on  this  relation.     The  chapter  views, 
on  ethics  alone  shows  this,  for  instead  of  closing  as  it 
should   have   done  with   Christian   ethics   it  has   been 
necessary  to    supplement    these    by  a  further   system 
which  we  have  called   "  modem  ethics ". 

That  these  do  exist  should  be  frankly  acknowledged, 
for  nothing  whatever  is  to  be  gained  by  adopting  the 
ostrich  policy  of  burying  one's  head  in  the  sand  and 
denying  the  obvious. 

The  time  has  undoubtedly  come  for  it  to  be  clearly 

understood  that  there  are  now  many  sober,  thoughtful  and 

honest  men  who  earnestly  believe  and  teach  that  they 

know  and  follow  a  more  excellent  way  than  Christianity, 

That  they  look  on   this  religion  as   merely  a  bygone 

episode  in   the  world's   history,   an   act  in    the  great 

drama  of  mankind,  of  which  the  interest  to  us  now  it 

chiefly  historical.   Consistently  and  candidly  they  declare 

(aos) 


so«  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

there  is  no  via  media,  and  that  to  all  who  would  be 
abreast  of  the  times  the  Bible,  while  still  regarded  as 
a  valuable  English  classic  (in  Greek  it  is  not  a  classic) 
containing  more  or  less  incomplete  moral  codes,  can 
no  longer  be  the  light  of  their  path.  Their  philosophy 
varies  much  in  detail,  but  generally  agrees  in  a  more 
I  or  less  cultured  Hedonism,  based  on  a  self-caused  evolu- 
Ition  ;  their  scheme  is  the  advancement  and  improve- 
ment of  mankind,  so  as  to  secure  the  maximum  of 
pleasure  for  themselves  and  others  in  this  world;  any 
future  world  and  any  present  Divine  power  or  control 
being  not  actually  denied,  but  dismissed  as  a  negligible 
factor  in  the  grand  scheme. 

The  horizon  of  this  modern  thought  is  hard  and 
well  defined,  and  is  bounded  by  the  material,  and 
thus  commends  itself  to  (very)  common  sense  and  to 
the  "  practical  man,"  who  is  tired  of  hearing  the 
"  passon  abummin'  o'er  his  ye'ad  ". 
Is  the  old  While    fully   recognising    the    popularity,   engaging 

simplicity,  and  practical  character  of  schemes  of  life 
based  on  some  such  foundation,  we  take  a  different 
and  more  old-fashioned  standpoint,  and  we  believe 
that  to  exclude  Divinity  is  not  only  to  leave  the  great- 
est problem  of  our  being  unexplained  but  inexplicable, 
and  cannot  therefore  regard  any  scheme  that  practically 
excludes  it  as  scientific.  It  seems  to  us  painfully  appar- 
ent that  what  modern  thought  gains  in  breadth  is  due 
to  loss  in  depth  ;  that  it  is  clear  because  shallow,  and 
definite  because  limited. 

Moreover,  if  it  be  true,  as  we  believe,  that  every 


CHARACTER  AND  CHRISTIANITY  aoj 

man  carries  a  witness  to  the  Divine  within  himself,  we 
think  it  doubtful  if  any  one  of  our  modern  apostles  is 
really  finally  and  exhaustively  satisfied  with  his  own 
creed.  We  therefore  take  our  stand  upon  Christianity 
in  its  revelation  of  a  personal  God  and  Saviour,  of  a 
future  life,  and  of  moral  responsibility,  and  upon  its 
view  that  the  glory  of  God  rather  than  the  mere 
pleasure  of  man  is  the  highest  object  in  life,  and  the 
most  powerful  force  in  the  formation  of  character. 

There  is  also  an  extensive  class  which  has  found  a  There  is  a 

....  -          .  .  Middle  Course 

modus  Vivendi  between  the  views  just  advanced  and  the 
modern  speculations  (which  are  really  ancient  revivals) 
previously  mentioned. 

These,  eliminating  from  Christianity  all  they  con- 
sider objectionable,  and  borrowing  chiefly  from  its  ethics 
without  encumbering  themselves  with  its  distinctive 
doctrines,  unite  what  they  select  with  modem  specu- 
lations and  humanistic  ends,  and  then  bid  for  support):^^'^^'^^^ 
from  both  sides.  One  might,  however,  almost  as  well-^Tj  ^^ 
have  Buddhism  pure  and  simple  as  this  emasculated  '^^''^'^C^ 
Christianity,  and  one  turns  with  relief  from  such  incon- 
gruities to  the  noble  and  lofty  pre-Christian  ethics  of 
Socrates,  Plato  and  Aristotle,  which  represented  the 
highest  flights  of  human  moral  thought  before  the 
revelation  of  Christianity.  Now,  however,  when  what 
professes  to  be  "  the  true  light  "  is  shining,  and  what 
claims  to  be  a  Divine  revelation  is  in  our  midst,  it 
seems  to  us  to  demand  either  honest  acceptance  or 
equally  honest  rejection.  For  either  of  these  one  in- 
stinctively feels  a  respect  which  it  is  difficult  to  yield 


ao8  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

to  the  middle  class,  who  would  select  the  rays  they  fancy 
out  of  the  white  effulgence,  and  reject  the  rest,  while 
they  still  appropriate  for  themselves  and  their  followers 
the  name  of  the  religion  most  of  whose  essential  doc- 
trines they  deny. 

Many  of  our  acutest  thinkers  see  clearly  that  morality 
and  religion,  or  the  worship  of  the  Divine,  are  distinct ; 
and  it  is  fatal  to  limit  Christianity  to  ethics.^  Let  it  be 
clearly  understood  and  never  denied,  therefore,  that, 
while  we  cannot  have  true  religion  without  morality,  and 
that  the  truest  religion  finds  its  exposition  in  the  highest 
morality,  we  can  and  do  have  morality  (as  generally 
understood)  without  religion.  The  greater  includes  the 
less,  though  the  less  cannot  include  the  greater. 
Is  Christianity        There  can  be  no  doubt  that  no  choice  on  earth  is  so 

to  be  the  .  ^,     .     . 

Standard  of     important  as  whether  or  no  we  are  to  accept  Christianity 

Character  ? 

as  the  standard  and  goal  of  character.  So  imperious 
are  its  claims,  and  so  absolute  the  distinction  between 
accepting  and  rejecting,  that  endless  remorse  must  one 
day  fill  the  soul  of  the  one  who  now  rejects  the  higher 
for  the  lower — Christianity  for  modern  ethics.  "We 
have  to  choose,"  says  Ruskin,  in  his  impassioned  lan- 
guage, "  between  a  Love  that  cannot  end,  and  a  worm 
that  cannot  die." 

\*^  Christianity  has  of  course  two  parts— the  means  and  the  end  of  true 
life-i-the  means  being  the  implanting  of  new  power  and  spiritual  force  in  the 
soul  of  man  and  his  moral  reconciliation  to  God  by  the  one  atonement ;  the 
^^  j  end  being  the  worship  and  glory  of  God,  not  by  sacrifices  and  ritual,  but 
\¥  by  the  practice  of  the  highest  Christian  morality  and  self-sacrifice. 
These  moral  sacrifices  of  the  New  Testament  distinctly  take  the  place  of 
the  ritualistic  sacrifices  of  the  Old ;  and  it  is  thus  that  ethics  and  Chris- 
cianity  coalesce  in  *'  ends,"  if  not  in  ••  m^ans  ". 


CHARACTER  AND  CHRISTIANITY  aog 

If  Christianity  be  lost,  there  is  nothing  left  to  form 
character  comparable  to  faith,  love  and  hope.      More-  \ 
over,  duty  itself  divorced  from  the  real  and  eternal  soon 
loses  its  character  and  becomes  degraded  to  mere  ex- 
pediency.    Surely  much  that  has  passed  recently  in  a 
neighbouring  country  is  a  melancholy  illustration  of  this.* 
Dr.  C.  H.  Pearson  observes,^  speaking  of  those  who  have 
lost   all  Christian  ideals  or  hope  of  immortality  as  in- 
centives to  a  higher  life :    **  Our  morality  will  become  j 
emasculate  tenderness,  our  mental  discipline  the  day-book  ' 
and  invoice,  our  intellectual  pleasure  the  French  novel ; 
and  yet  there  seems  no  reason  why  such  men  should  not 
increase  and  multiply  ;  and  thus  the  savour  of  vacant  lives 
will  go  up  to  God  from  every  home." 

It  is  a  great  thing  in  these  matters  to  make  a  good  Yes,  for  it 

best 

and  irrevocable  beginning,  hence  the  value  of  a  "  sound 
conversion  '*  when  crossing  this  Rubicon.  Carlyle's  ever- 
lasting "yea"  must  be  pronounced  with  emphasis  in 
favour  of  the  Divine  and  the  Eternal,  if  we  would  escape 
the  eternal  night  of  an  everlasting  "no  ". 

Let  a  man,  therefore,  own  and  fulfil  his  relations, 
human  and  divine,  with  a  willing  heart,  and  he  will 
develop  his  character  on  the  highest  lines. 

"  It  is  well,"  says  Maeterlink,^  "  men  should  be  re- 
minded that  the  very  humblest  of  them  has  the  power  to 
fashion  after  a  Divine  model  ...  a  great  moral  person- 
ality, composed  in  equal  parts  of  himself  and  the  ideal." 

*  Dreyfus  Case. 

*  Dr.  C.  H.  Pearson,  Natural  Life  and  Character,  p.  357, 

*  Maeterlink,  Tfu  Treasure  of  the  Humble,  p.  190, 


i  \ 


aio  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

With  a  Christian  ideal  we  get  a  stricter  sense  of  justice, 
a  more  complete  realisation  of  duty,  more  delicacy  of 
feeling,  greater  refinement  of  manner,  more  kindliness 
and  quicker  sympathies  ;  in  short,  although  Christianity 
is  more  than  mere  morality,  no  morality  is  so  lofty  as 
that  formed  on  a  Christian  ideal. 

At  the  same  time,  it  is  easy  to  criticise  many  noble 
characters,  for  the  greater  the  polish  on  a  stone  the  more 
are  the  flaws,  as  well  as  the  perfections,  revealed.  The 
finer  the  character  the  more  diflfiicult  is  the  advance,  and 
the  more  frequent  the  shortcomings.  The  Christian 
ideal  of  perfection  is  indeed  nothing  less  than  perfect 
obedience  to  God  and  perfect  communion  with  Him  and 
one  another  in  His  light. 

We  talk  of  obedience,  but  such  a  service  is  oerfect 
freedom.  It  is  the  "  truth  *'  alone  that  can  make  us 
free,  not  **  freethought  " — and  not  only  free,  but  happy 
— and  not  only  happy,  but  beautiful. 

"  When  a  man,"  says  Emerson,  "  lives  with  God,  his 
voice  (character)  shall  be  as  sweet  as  the  murmur  of  the 
brook  and  the  rustle  of  the  corn.  He  will  weave  nof 
longer  a  spotted  life  of  shreds  and  patches,  but  he  will] 
live  with  a  Divine  unity.  He  will  cease  from  what  is 
base  and  frivolous  in  his  life,  and  be  content  with  all 
places  and  with  any  service  he  can  reach.  He  will 
calmly  front  the  morrow  in  the  negligency  of  that  trust 
which  carries  God  with  it,  and  so  has  the  whole  future  in 
the  bottom  of  the  heart." 

Not  that,  if  we  are  to  accept  the  Bible  teaching,  we 
ever  see  the  full  development  of  Christian  character  here. 


CHARACTER  AND  CHRISTIANITY  xii 

The  soul  is  a  seed,  and  though  it  may  leaf  and  bud  and 
blossom  now,  we  do  not  see  the  full  fruition  in  time,  for 
"  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be  ". 

This  Christian  principle,  this  inward  energy  of  the  Christianity 

^  ^     '  .  lies  in  the  Un- 

Divine  Spirit,  lies  deep  in  unconsciousness.  By  virtue  conscious. 
of  the  unconscious  mind  our  conscious  will  is  often  over- 
powered, and  our  true  inner  selves  speak.  That  which 
we  are  is  what  we  really  teach,  not  what  we  say.  True 
progress  is  seen  in  a  man's  tone,  rather  than  heard  in 
his  words.  If  he  has  not  found  his  home  in  God,  his 
speech,  his  opinions,  his  acts  all  unconsciously  confess  it. 
If  he  has  found  a  creature's  only  true  centre,  the  Creator 
shines  through  him.  The  tone  of  the  seeker  is  one ;  that 
of  the  possessor  is  another,  and  the  latter  should  be  the 
humbler  of  the  two.  The  centre  round  which  a  life 
revolves  cannot  be  hid. 

One  may  perhaps  be  allowed  to  quote  here  a  few 
words  of  Dr.  Creighton's,  when  the  Bishop  was  address- 
ing the  Christian  endeavourers  at  Alexandra  Palace  this 
year  (1900).  He  says :  "  More  important  than  what  they 
said  was  the  way  they  said  it.  The  spirit  that  radiated 
from  them  was  the  most  important  part  of  their  influ- 
,  ence  in  the  world.  .  .  .  The  world  could  do  without 
'  their  ability  and  zeal,  but  not  without  their  reflection  of 
Christ's  temper.  It  was  by  their  temper  in  the  small 
things  of  life,  by  their  grace,  humility,  and  self-sacrifice, 
that  they  would  turn  the  hearts  of  others  to  a  power 
the  world  did  not  contain." 

One  evolves,  perhaps,  at  first  the  unusual  attractive- 
ness of  the  personal  character  with  which  one  feels  a 


aia  SPRINGS  OP  CHARACTER 

Special  sympathy ;  until  at  length  one  sees  the  attraction 
is  due  to  the  common  factor  of  a  greater  presence — 
God. 
The  Difference       The  esscntial  difference  between  Christian  and  the 

between  a  ^ 

Christian  and  highest  character  evolved  on  purely  natural  lines  lies 

a  natural 

Character.  perhaps  most  largely  in  the  change  of  centre  round 
which  the  deposit  of  character,  so  to  speak,  is  made. 
The  highest  type  of  the  purely  natural  pre-Christian  char- 
acter is  the  Stoic ;  and  the  centre  of  the  Stoic  character 
is  the  individual  e£'o — self.  He  is  Nature's  nobleman 
governed  by  a  natural  noblesse  oblige.  The  fundamental 
law  upon  which  his  character  is  built  up  is  the  fundamental 
'  .animal  law  of  self-preservation.  It  is  the  product  of  the 
most  enlightened  self-interest.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Christian  character  is  built  up  under  the  law  of  love  (St. 
John  xiii.  34),  not  self-interest  but  charity  forms  the 
nucleus  and  centre.  The  true  Christian  does  not  even 
try  to  make  himself  a  noble  man ;  but,  leaving  himself 
to  God,  he  tries  to  help  and  ennoble  others.  The  true 
Christian's  eyes  are  so  fixed  on  Christ  that  he  is  free 
from  all  self-regarding.  He  "  follows  the  Lamb  "  and  he 
finds  the  Master  not  in  Jerusalem  with  the  Pharisees,  but 
in  Galilee  going  about  doing  good  among  the  publicans 
and  sinners. 

True  Christianity  is  undoubtedly  a  homologous,  as 
distinguished  from  a  heterologous  idea  ;  of  the  difference 
we  have  spoken  in  Chapter  VH.,  p.  99.  It  is  clear  that 
there  is  that  within  that  can  and  does  respond  to  the  Pres- 
ence and  law  of  God  without.  If  the  material  world  is 
in  three  dimensions  our  spirit  is  in  a  fourth,  to  use  the 


CHARACTER  AND  CHRISTIANITY  ai3 

language  of  transcendental  geometry  ;  ^  and  thus  one  side 
of  it  is  ever  "  naked  and  open  to  Him  with  whom  we  have 
to  do". 

If  we  will  let  our  thoughts  flow,  and  the  stream  run\ 
on,  we  may  often  learn  much — for  God  is  behind  the- 3 
soul.     "God  speaketh  once,  yea  twice,  yet  man  perceiveth 
it  not  .  .  .  then  He  openeth  the  ears  of  men,  and  sealeth 
their  instructions."  ^ 

"  Amid  the  mysteries,"  says  Herbert  Spencer,  "  which 
becometh  more  mysterious  the  more  they  are  thought 
about,  there  will  soon  ever  remain  the  one  absolute 
certainty  that  man  is  ever  in  the  presence  of  an  infinite 
and  eternal  energy  from  which  all  things  proceed." 

An  animal,  not  having  a  human  mind,  can  only  look  The  Response 

,  .    ,  <  •       1        r  horn  Within. 

on  blankly  at  the  abstract  thmker,  the  attitude  of  prayer, 
or  the  face  of  remorse,  though  quickly  responsive  to 
sensations  common  to  its  nature ;  and  ours  shows  that 
we,  in  understanding  Divine  attributes  and  qualities, 
must  have  that  within  us  that  enables  us  to  comprehend 
them. 

We  are  wiser  than  we  know,  and  if  we  will  not  stifle 
our  inspirations,  they  will  surely  lead  us  on  to  further 
light,  though  we  may  not  at  the  time  be  in  the  least 
conscious  of  the  end  towards  which  we  shall  neverthe- 
less progress  if  humble  enough. 

.  .  .  Looking  within  and  around  me,  I  ever  renew, 
With  that  stoop  of  the  soul,  which  in  bending,  upraises  it  too, 
The  submission  of  man's  nothing-perfect,  to  God's  all-complete, 
As  by  each  new  obeisance  of  spirit,  I  climb  to  His  feet. — Browning, 

*  A.  T.  Schofield,  Ths  Fourth  Dimension.     (Swan  Sonnenschda.) 

*  Job  xzxiii.  14,  z6. 


ai4  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

The  hidden  and  unconscious  depths  of  the  soul  once 
recognised  explain  much.  It  has  long  been  felt  that  the 
doctrines  of  Christianity,  of  the  implanting  of  a  new 
nature,  of  the  in-dwelling  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  just  as  much 
as  the  source  of  a  conscience,  are  not  directly  realised 
within  the  sphere  of  consciousness. 

In  religious  services  for  the  **  deepening  of  the 
spiritual  life  "  it  is  to  be  noted  how  prominent  a  place  is 
given  to  the  "  cessation  of  effort,"  to  the  "  casting  out  of 
self,"  to  "  lying  passive"  and  "  yielding  up  our  powers," 
etc.  A  well-known  Christian  teacher,  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Andrew  Murray,  writes :  "  Deeper  down  than  where  the 
soul  with  its  consciousness  can  enter,  there  is  spirit  matter 
linking  man  with  God  ;  and  deeper  down  than  the  mind 
and  feelings  or  will — in  the  unseen  depths  of  the  hidden 
life — there  dwells  the  Spirit  of  God." 
Necessity  of  We  have  referred  to  the  *'  new  birth,"  which  is  hardly 

'  better  understood  by  our  philosophers  now  than  it  was 
by  Nicodemus  of  old. 

Plato  in  his  Republic  in  describing  the  art  of  dyeing 
the  true  Tyrian  purple  says  :  "  The  wool  must  be  purely 
,  white  first,  otherwise  this  profound  colour  soon  washes 
!  out."  So,  if  the  heart  is  as  white  as  wool,  the  character  ^ 
truly  dyed  will  never  change.  But  is  the  heart  as  white 
as  wool  ?  The  Bible  only  echoes  the  voice  of  all  ex- 
perience when  it  answers  "  no  ". 

What  then  is  the  '*  new  birth  '*  ?  Is  it  not,  under  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  impartation  of  a  pure  and 
holy  principle  to  guide  the  will  _ and  life  in  accordance 
with  the  will  and  word  of  God  ;  and  is  it  not  evident 


CHARACTER  AND   CHRISTIANITY  215 

that  any  "  dyeing  "  that  is  attempted  before  this  prin- 
ciple is  imparted  will  '*wash  out"? 

Since  this  is  in  no  sense  a  theological  treatise,  we 
will  not  enter  here  on  the  question  when  this  "  inward 
grace  "  is  imparted. 

Its  sphere  is  the  unconscious  mind.  At  the  first  birth 
a  child  has  no  conscious  mind  as  far  as  we  know,  or  it 
would  be  conscious  of  its  birth ;  and  when  a  fresh 
principle  is  introduced  as  the  commencement  of  a  higher 
life  the  influx  of  the  new  spirit  is  unsearchable,  and 
the  only  proof  of  its  existence  lies  in  its  fruits  in 
consciousness. 

In  the  new  life  it  appears  the  Holy  Spirit  is  the  sub-  character  is 

1/^11  t  •        •  Tn,  1  .     1    ^o'  suddenly 

jective,  and  God  the  objective  power.     The  new  birth  changed. 
gives  new  motives  and  objects  rather  than  new  faculties. 
The  character,  therefore,  is  not  suddenly  changed,  but  L 
rather   gradually  transformed  by  new   objects.     Those  ' 
parts  of  the  character  that  cannot  now  be  used  atrophy 
from   disuse,   while   those  that    are    useful    are   freshly 
moulded  as  required. 

**  In  the  life  of  every  man,"  says  Maeterlink,^  "  has 
there  been  a  day  when  the  heavens  opened  .  .  .  and  it 
is  almost  from  that  very  instant  that  dates  this  true 
spiritual  personality." 

We  wish  we  could  endorse  the  "  every  man  " ;  it  is 
true  of  all  who  know  "the  truth  ". 

It  is  the  actions,  the  fruits  of  the  character,  that  must 
show  the  new  inspiration  :  there  is  a  new  principle  of 
faith  in  active  exercise ;  the  lamp  of  hope  is  lighted,  and 

*  Maeterlink,  The  Treasure  of  the  Humble,  p.  172. 


ai6  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

burns  steadily,  while  the  flower  of  Divine  love  fills  the  life 
with  fragrance. 

To  love  one's  neighbour  is  after  all  to  love  in  others 
that  which  is  Divine  and  eternal.  All  men  are  my  neigh- 
bours ;  but  not  all  equally  so :  those  who  are  next  or  in 
greatest  need  are  most  so.  Charity  begins  at  home  and 
near  home.  Moral  introspection  is  an  essentially 
Christian  practice.  I  am  my  brother's  keeper,  and  so 
far  called  to  bear  the  world's  need  and  sorrow,  for  which 
I  am  utterly  inadequate.  Here  Christianity  comes  in, 
and  reveals  the  existence  of  an  Infinite  and  efficient 
Agent  for  this  infinite  work  in  which  we  are  permitted 
to  be  fellow-labourers.  Christianity  takes  new  views  of 
my  duties  in  all  the  three  spheres  of  self,  neighbour,  God. 
Holiness  and  righteousness  are  new  and  guiding  principles 
of  life,  and  by  them  and  other  qualities  is  the  inward 
motor  power  exhibited. 

Moral    goodness   can   never  be   conferred,   it   must 

be  acquired.     We  may   be   even   accounted   righteous, 

but    cannot    be    practically    righteous    save    by  doing 

righteousness. 

Dependence  The  Spirit  of  dependence  upon  God  is  (as  marked  in 

and  Obedience.  .     .  it 

Christian  men  as  obedience. 

Ruskin  observes  ^ :  **  There  is  nothing  so  small  but 
that  we  may  honour  God  by  asking  His  guidance,  and  as 
thus  every  action  done,  even  to  the  drawing  of  a  line  or 
the  utterance  of  a  syllable,  is  capable  of  a  peculiar 
dignity  in  the  manner  of  it ;  so  also  .  .  .  still  higher  is 
the  motive  of  it.     For  there  is  no  action  so  slight  or  so 

^  J.  Ruskin,  Seven  Lamps  of  Architecturet  Introd.,  4-6. 


CHARACTER  AND  CHRISTIANITY  317 

mean  but  it  may  be  done  to  a  great  purpose  .  .  .  most  es- 
pecially that  chief  of  all  purposes  .  .  .  the  pleasing  of  God." 

Although,  however,  the  new  principle  may  have 
entered  the  life,  the  old  is  by  no  means  gone,  and  not 
only  acts,  as  we  have  seen  when  considering  the  two 
natures  in  Chapter  VIII.,  but  is  capable  of  concealing 
itself  under  the  name  and  guise  of  Christianity.  For 
instance,  no  worse  selfishness  is  seen  anywhere  than  is 
often  found  under  a  religious  guise.  Religious  humility 
may  recognise  inherent  sin  and  weakness  with  no  further 
result  than  the  formal  statement  (that  loses  all  its  force  by 
constant  repetition)  that  we  are  all  "  miserable  sinners  ". 
Self-righteousness  and  Pharisaical  pride  are  not  unknown 
in  characters  otherwise  good,  as  well  as  more  than  traces 
of  conceit,  malice  and  all  uncharitableness. 

The  Christianity  of  practical  life  is,  alas  !  by  no  means  The  imitation 

of  Christ. 

always  so  idyllic  as  some  of  our  quotations  depict. 

If  the  subjective  power  for  the  higher  life  be  found  in 
God's  Spirit,  the  objective  is  not  derived  from  a  study  of 
doctrines,  however  sound  and  dry,  but  from  the  imitation 
of  Christ  our  Saviour.  His  is  the  model  character,  and 
the  deeper  and  more  profoundly  it  is  studied  the  more 
do  we  begin  to  understand  what  is  comprehended  in  a 
perfect  character.  The  more  His  life  is  contemplated 
the  greater  the  ability  to  cogjMt,  for,  as  Bickersteth  so 
beautifully  says^ : — 

Not  living  only,  He  infused  new  life ; 
Not  only  beauteous,  for  He  beautified; 
Not  only  glorious,  for  He  glorified. 

^Blckenteth,  Yesterday,  To-day,  and  For  Evtr, 


si8  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

And  there  is  more  in  it  than   this.     We  see  pre- 
eminent amid  all  the  rival  systems  of  ethics  set  before 
us  as  purposes  of  life  the  simple  and  sublime  end  of 
Christian  life  as  declared  by  St.  Paul  ^ :  "  We  are  pre- 
destined to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  His   Son". 
The  Goal  of     That,  according  to  God,  is  the  end  and  goal  of  a  rightly- 
*  ordered  human  life,  and  meanwhile  we  are  commanded 
to  "  follow  Him,  to  walk  as  He  walked,  to  follow  His 
steps,"  in  short,  to  make  Him  the  pattern,  example  and 
standard  of  life,  as  He  is  predestined  to  be  its  end.     Now 
can  any  one  cavil  at  this  ?    Is  there  a  nobler  ideal  within 
the  whole  range  of  human  thought  ?     Have  we  within 
the  whole  circle  of  other  religions  one  single  utterance  so 
authoritative  as  regards  the  object  and  plan  of  life?     It 
is  an  immense  relief  to  have  such  a  purpose  and  end 
placed  before  us,  and  we  think  no  worthy  substitute  will 
ever  be  found  for  it.     "  Come  happiness  or  sorrow,"  says 
Maeterlink,^  "  the  happiest  man  will  be  he  within  whom 
the  greatest  idea  shall  burn  the  most  ardently." 
Follow  Christ's       Christ  is  the  only  ideal  worth  following,  the  only 
xarap  e.        Personality  that  can  draw  the  whole  world 

He  alone  can  fill  a  human  life  with  love,  joy,  peace, 
long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness,  tem- 
perance— with  that  Christian  character  which  is  one  of 
the  hall-marks  of  the  true  precious  metal ;  and  this,  as  we 
have  already  said,  not  alone  by  making  Him  the  ideal, 
but  by  having  within  that  new  spring  and  power  that 
both  give  the  desire  and  ability  in  any  way  to  copy  it 

^  St  Paul,  Rom.  viii.  29. 

*  Maeterlink,  Wisdom  and  Destiny,  p.  43. 


CHARACTER   AND   CHRISTIANITY  219 

Character  is  not  formed  by  introspection ;  though  the 
power  that  forms  or  transforms  it  is  within. 

Abstract  ideas  can  never  possess  and  control  a  per- 
sonal  soul ;  we  must  have  as  our  Owner  and  Inspirer  a 
personal  God.  No  standard  indeed  of  character  is 
possible  but  Christ.  What  would  He  do?  is  the  ques- 
tion of  chief  interest  to  His  followers.  All  our  greatest 
teachers  insist  on  this. 

The  only  thing  that  can  satisfy  a  human  mind  is  an 
object  of  devotion,  not  himself,  to  which  he  can  feel  it 
worthy  and  right  to  devote  his  life  and  talents. 

The   pursuit  of  the  unattainable  is  what  ennobles.  The  Pursuit  of 

>  .,    -  ,  ...  ,  111.1   the  Impossible. 

**  A  pupil  from  whom  nothmg  is  ever  demanded  which 
he   cannot  do,"  says  Mill,*  "  never   does   all   he   can." 
With  such  an  ideal  as  Christ,  the  Standard  of  perfection, ; , 
we  are  ever  growing,  never  grown  ;  ever  perfecting,  never  ■/ 
perfect ;  ever  attaining,  never  attained  ;  and  this  preserves 
humility,  as  we  have  said,  and  stimulates  pursuit 

>  J.  S.  Mill,  Autobiography,  p.  32. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

CHARACTER  AND  DESTINY. 

flow  an  act,  reap  a  habit ;  sow  a  habit,  reap  a  character ;  tow  a 
character,  reap  a  destiny. 

Our  study  of  the  springs  of  character  is  completed,  and 
if  this  chapter  be  added  it  is  merely  because  there  are 
often  those  who  like  to  have  what  they  have  been  reading 
briefly  summarised,  so  that  they  can  better  carry  away 
into  practical  life  those  points  that  seem  to  them  of  value. 
This  short  summary  is  therefore  given,  together  with  a 
few  words  on  the  formation  of  character,  and  the  connec- 
tion between  character  and  destiny. 

Chapters  I.  and  Character  then,  is  the  mental  expression  of  our  per- 
sonality, and  its  home  is  in  the  unconscious  mind.  This 
personality  is  unknowable  save  to  God,  as  it  can  never 
be  wholly  brought  into  consciousness  or  wholly  seen  by 
others.  Fictitious  or  partly  fictitious  selves  abound  of 
various  sorts,  and  are  made  consciously  or  unconsciously 
by  their  owners  for  various  purposes.  Others,  as  a  rule, 
know  us  better  than  ourselves,  partly  because  they  can 

Chapter  III.     See  more  readily  the  unconscious  impress  of  the  character 

on  the  body  and  in  the  thousand  details  of  daily  life.    This 

impress  of  the  character  on  the  body,  and  especially  on 

(220) 


CHARACTER   AND  DESTINY  aai 

the  face,  has  led  to  the  construction  of  a  pseudo-science 
of  character  (phrenology),  which  localises  character  in 
a  series  of  "  organs,"  represented  by  "  bumps  "  in  the 
cranium. 

No  real  science  of  character  has,  however,  been  con- 
structed, the  nearest  to  it  being  the  science  of  ethics, 
which  is  the  abstract  science,  of  which  morality  is  the  <a:r/^Chapter  iv 
and  character  the  concxQtQ  expression.     Ethics  are  often 
set  in  the  place  of  Christianity  as  a  substitute  for  it ;  but 
Christianity  is  more  than  ethics  :  it  is  a  religion,  and  a      ca</^^— 
religion  has  power  over  character  which  ethics  have  not ;     ;  -^  ^  ^ 
the  difference  may  be  compared  to  that  between  a  train 
and  Bradshaw,  between  a  power  and  a  guide. 

Passing   from    these    preliminary    considerations    te 
character  itself  we   have  considered   its  springs.      The 
original  source  is  undoubtedly  heredity  ;   but  on  close  Chapter  v. 
examination  we  see  that  it  is  hardly  actual  character 
that  is  inherited,  but  rather  a  number  of  potentialities 
and  tendencies  which  the  after-life  converts  into  virtues 
and  vices  and  more  or  less  prominent  features  of  character.^ , 
j  The  force  of  early  education  in  determining  this  is  very  1 
I  great ;  hence  the  importance  attaching  to  child  culture. '  ^ 
The  great  power  of  this  education,  which  is  almost  wholly 
unconscious,  is  in  forming  habits,  which  force  of  habit 
may  be  regarded  as  the  second  great  spring  or  source  of  2^ 
character,  acting  as  it  does  in  two  ways :  first,  in  modify- 
ing the  original  tendencies  of  heredity ;  and  secondly,  in 
adding  fresh  qualities  to  the  character.     The  value  of  Chapter  VL 
\  gpod  habits  to  character,  and  the  corresponding  evils 
when  such  habits  are  bad,  cannot  be  overrated. 


133  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Habit  is  induced  by  environment  and  ideals,  or  what 
is  around  and  before  us,  the  choice  of  both  being  largely 
under  our  control.  The  value  of  good  and  inspiring 
ideals  have  in  their  influence  on  character  perhaps  the 
larger  share  in  determining  the  destiny. 

Chapter  VII.  The  growth  of  character  proceeds  on  the  same  lines 

as  the  body,  by  means  of  food  and  exercise ;  the  food 
consisting  of  ideas  and  the  exercise  of  the  various  circum- 
stances of  life  through  which  we  pass.  The  special  value 
of  suffering  and  various  forms  of  adversity  to  noble  char- 
acters is  very  great,  and  is  one  of  the  speediest  ways  of 
raising  the  diligent  pupil  to  the  sixth  form  of  life's  school. 

Chapter  VIII.  The  analysis  of  character  presents  great  difficulties, 
for  this  complex  mental  compound  derives  its  activity 
and  value  not  alone  from  its  infinitely  varying  ingredients 
and  the  endless  proportions  in  which  they  combine,  but 
to  the  power  and  direction  of  the  moral  energy  or  will  in 
bringing  them  into  action. 

All  we  can  really  do,  therefore,  is  to  enumerate  the 
better  known  varieties  of  character  without  examining 

Chapter  IX.     their  composition  in  detail,  and  make  lists  of  the  qualities, 

gfood  and  bad,  that  may  enter  into  their  composition. 

We  must,  however,  lay  very  great  stress  here  upon 

the  fact  that  the  real  value  of  a  character  consists  not 

alone  in  the  excellence  of  its  elements,  but  upon  their 

I  harmonious  combination ;  so  that  the  character  is  a  com- 

r, 

'*  pound,  and  not  a  mere  mixture;   a  symphony,  not  a 

discord ;   well-balanced  and  stable,  not  cranky  or  one- 
sided. 
Chapter  X.  We  now  pass  on  to  the  motor  power  or  spring,  in  the 


CHARACTER  AND  DESTINY  223 

sense  of  mainspring  or  force  of  character — the  will,    Here    'iLJ^ 
the  first  thing  to  observe  is  that  the  will  is  practically 
and  consciously  free ;  and  moral  responsibility,  therefore, 
can,  and  does,  attach  to  its  actions. 

A  little  consideration  will  show  that  it  is  in  the 
exercise  of  the  will  that  merit  or  demerit  attaches  to 
character. 

A  close  connection  exists,  therefore,  between  morality 
and  will,  the  finest  character  in  the  world  being  valueless 
if  it  does  not  include  a  strong  and  vigorous  will. 

This  leads  us  on  to  conduct  or  the  expression  of  will  chapter  xi. 
and  of  character.  A  man  is  rightly  estimated  by  his 
conduct.  What  he  ts  has  little  value  to  others  if  it  be 
(never  expressed.  Of  course  we  can  only  very  roughly 
judge  of  a  character  by  the  actions;  but  at  any  rate  we 
see  its  most  active  and  leading  qualities,  even  if  the 
more  passive  ones  are  hidden.  The  value  of  the  con- 
duct depends  on  the  motives  that  move  the  will,  and  to 
analyse  these  is  often  a  difficult  task.  They  largely 
spring  from  the  moral  sense  within,  which  we  call  cqq- 
science. 

This  conscience  is  seen,  on  closely  looking  at  it,  to  be  chapter  xn. 
one  of  the  abstract  senses  that  distinguish  humanity  from 
the  rest  of  the  animal  kingdom.  It  differs  from  reason  or 
the  logical  faculty  and  aesthetics  or  the  love  of  the  beauti- 
ful in  bringing  us  into  connection  with  not  only  abstract 
but  spiritual  truths.  Considerations  of  morals  and  right 
and  wrong  bring  in  the  question  of  responsibility  and  God; 
and  although  the  moral  sense  as  such  can  in  no  way  be 
said  to  be  the  voice  of  God  in  the  man,  there  is  no  doubt 


324  SPRINGS   OF   CHARACTER 

it  is  the  channel  through  which  He  often  speaks  and  is 
the  faculty  that  brings  us  most  into  His  presence. 

In  civilised  man  conscience  is  always  more  or  less^ 
educated,  either  along  natural  and  true  lines,  or  artificially,  I 
by  conventional  or  false,  and  even  vicious  standards,  so 
that  it  can  be  made  to  pronounce  wrong  to  be  right  and 
darkness  to  be  light.  In  this  dependence  on  the  standard 
before  it,  it  resembles  a  sundial,  which,  while  always 
correct  when  in  the  sunlight,  can  be  made  to  say  mid- 
night is  noon-day  by  the  artificial  light  of  a  candle.  The 
light  in  which  the  conscience  acts  is  therefore  all -impor- 
tant, and  the  higher  and  truer  the  standard  the  greater  is 
ithe  value  of  the  voice  of  conscience.  This  voice,  moreover, 
should  be  heeded,  or  it  soon  ceases  to  speak. 

The  two  practical  points,  therefore,  are  to  beware  of  . 
false  standards,  and  of  stifling  the  warnings  of  conscience.  ? 
Chapter  XIIL  Lastly  we  come  to  Christianity  and  its  effects  on 
character.  This  is  not,  as  we  have  seen,  merely  a  system 
of  ethics.  It  is  a  religion  and  a  revelation.  It  sets  be- 
fore us  in  explicit  terms  the  highest  purpose  for  which 
life  can  be  lived.  It  gives  us  not  a  set  of  doctrines,  but 
a  Divine  Personality,  who  as  a  man  Himself  lived  an 
absolutely  perfect  life,  as  an  Example  to  those  for  whom 
He  afterwards  died  as  Saviour.  It  also  supplies  an 
inward  force  or  spring  of  action  in  the  Holy  Spirit,  who 
gives  our  moral  sense  the  needed  power  to  overcome  our 
lower  nature. 

The  standard  Christianity  requires  can  never  be 
attained,  and  the  purpose  it  proposes  is  not  realisable  in 
this  life ;  the  example  it  sets  before  us  can  never  be  success- 


CHARACTER  AND  DESTINY  2»$ 

fully  copied  ;  and  it  is  the  impossibility  of  reaching  this 
absolute  perfection,  this  unattainable  height  and  depth 
of  Christianity,  that  gives  to  it  its  supreme  power  over 
the  character,  making  it  ever  to  advance  in  growth  and 
keeping  it  ever  humble  in  spirit.  We  thus  consider  that 
there  is  nothing  to  compare  with  true  religion  in  its 
power  of  forming  a  noble  character  ;  and,  shall  we  add, 
nothing  that  we  know  of  that  can  form  a  baser  one  than 
a  counterfeit  of  it. 

What  connection  then  has  character  with  destiny  ?  Character  »u 

Destiny. 

Time  was  when  the  idea  itself  would  have  seemed  foolish 
if  not  impious.  Did  not  the  fates  cast  their  baleful 
shadow  over  the  polished  worlds  of  Greece  and  Rome ; 
and  were  not  the  gods  of  the  East  and  of  Egypt  mysteri- 
ous representatives  of  the  powers  of  nature  in  whose  laps 
all  human  destiny  lay  ?  whom  it  was  needful  therefore 
to  propitiate,  often  with  sacrifices,  often  human  lives, 
to  keep  them  in  a  good  humour,  and  secure  their  aid. 
Human  character  was  then  at  a  low  ebb,  for  although 
lofty  ethical  principles  were  taught  by  the  great  founders 
of  Buddhism,  Confucianism  and  Greek  philosophy,  theirs 
were  doctrines  without  power  ;  guideposts  rather  than  The  Story  of 
guides,  for  they  supplied  no  motive  force,  they  furnished  "^  **° 
no  inspiring  ideals  ;  and  Christianity  then  rose  upon  the 
world  of  dark  fates  and  powerless  ethics.  The  conflict 
between  the  old  and  new  began  very  early. 

Looking  back  over  the  ages,  one  is  indeed  surprised 
to  see  how  soon,  almost  from  the  very  first,  Christianity 
was  corrupted  and  adulterated  with  the  superstitions  it 
came  to  supersede. 

«5 


•96  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Before  long  the  new  religion  degenerated  into  a 
replacing  of  the  old  fatalism  with  superstition,  and 
raising  ethics  in  some  respect  to  a  higher  level  than  was 
known  before.  But  through  all  there  still  flowed  the 
pure  stream  of  true  Christianity,  as  it  has  done  all  through 
the  dark  ages,  though  often  in  subterranean  and  little 
noticed  channels. 
Protestantism.  In  Protestantism,  with  all  its  faults  of  detail,  we  see 
the  reaction  against  this  world-wide  corruption  of  Chris- 
tianity :  though  with  the  emancipation  of  thought  that 
accompanied  it  the  opposite  extreme  was  soon  reached. 

Revolting  against   degrading  superstitions  little  re- 
moved from  idolatry,  and  a  religion  that  was  the  death- 
blow to  progress,  advanced  thinkers,  aided  by  the  rapid 
progress  of  all  the  sciences,  for  the  first  time  relegated 
supernatural   considerations   and    influences    to   a   very 
secondary  place,  and  put   before  man  that  he,  and  he 
alone,  was  the  arbiter  of  his  fate  ;  that  all  that  was,  was 
//cause  and  effect;  that  the  only  duties  he  owed  were  to 
11  himself  and  his  neighbours ;  that  faith  was  naught  and 
If  works  were  all. 

This  revolt  of  intellect  did  good  as  well  as  evil ;  but, 
as  is  ever  the  case  with  the  human  clock,  the  pendulum 
had  now  swung  too  far. 

Casting  off  superstition,  men  would  fain  dispense  with 
the  Divine  altogether. 

This  was,  however,  found  impossible,  for  Grod  had 
two  witnesses  left,  even  when  His  Word  was  discredited. 

There  was  the  mysterious  sense  of  right  and  wrong 
within — whence   came    it?     There  was  also  the  earth 


CHARACTER  AND  DESTINY  wj 

around,  and,  as  Kant  says,  "  the  starry  heavens  above" 
— whence  came  they  ? 

So  the  unknown  God  having  revealed  Himself  in  Position 
Christianity,  and  that  Revelation  being  by  many  rejected, 
is  again  sought  for  by  philosophers,  as  He  was  in  Athens 
2,cxx)  years  ago.     Such  is  human  progress  Godward  ! 

But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  character  and 
destiny  ?  Simply  this  much.  As  long  as  we  have  two 
rival  schools — the  one  crying  aloud  for  faith  and  the 
other  for  works — we  shall  never  arrive  at  the  true  rela- 
tion of  character  and  destiny,  for  the  "believers"  tell 
as  destiny  depends  on  faith  and  not  works,  while  the 
"workers"  tell  us  it  depends  on  works  and  not  faith. 
As  we  have  said  elsewhere,  we  are  often  right  in  what 
we  affirm,  but  wrong  in  what  we  deny,  for  truth  is 
greater  than  ourselves ;  therefore  we  should  affirm  and 
deny  not.  If  we  say  destiny  depends  on  faith,  well 
and  good  ;  if  we  say  it  depends  on  works,  also  well  and 
good.  Let  us  be  content  with  the  two  affirmatives, 
which  have  the  highest  authority;  and  dispense  with 
the  negatives. 

Character,  then,  as  shown  in  works  or  conduct,  ac-  Faith  and 

Works. 

cording  to  the  latter  school,  is  the  seed  that  determines  ' 
destiny  here  and  hereafter.  But  what  says  the  former  ? 
Does  it  not  deny  this  ?  No,  in  no  wise.  For  the  faith 
that  saves  is  the  power  that  can  alone  produce  the 
character  or  conduct  that  determines  our  eternal  destiny 
for  good  ;  faith  shows  itself  by  works. 

Our  position,  partly  in  this  world  (for  there  are  the 
circumstances  of  birth,  accident,  etc.,  to  be  considered)  and 


ail  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

wholly  in  the  next,  is  determined  by  character ;  but  the 
character  that  can  alone  please  God  and  dwell  with  Him 
must  be  inspired  by  faith,  and  energised  by  the  Holy 
Spirit.  "  Sow  a  character  and  reap  a  destiny  !  "  Yes  ; 
but  it  is  impossible  to  sow  the  right  character,  unless  we 
have  the  moral  force  within,  the  sower  as  well  as  the 
seed  ;  and  this  we  cannot  find  in  the  elementary  natural 
conscience  alone,  but  in  the  possession  and  guiding  of 
our  wills  by  God's  Spirit. 

Now,  in  this  view,  we  have  gained  much.     We  do 

not  exalt  faith  at  the  expense  of  works,  or  works  at  the 

expense  of  faith  ;  but  seek  to  give  each  its  place  as  laid 

down  by  our  inspired  teachers. 

The  Greatness        Consider  then  how  great  a  thing  is  character  both  for 

of  Character.  ^  ** 

this  world  and  the  next.  It  has  the  casting  vote  in  our 
destiny. 

**  Nothing  befals  us  that  is  not  of  the  nature  of 
ourselves."  * 

A  man  in  this  world  has  exactly  the  place  his 
character  makes  for  him.  If  he  be  clever  and  unscrupu- 
lous and  selfish  he  may  rapidly  get  his  reward  in  riches 
without  honour,  in  power  without  love.  A  nobler 
character  may  be  poorer  in  wealth,  but  richer  in  respect, 
and  in  the  eyes  of  all  whose  opinion  is  worth  having  he 
is  the  one  to  be  envied.  Riches  may  be  amassed  by  the 
I  worst  of  men  and  means  ;  but  a  good  character  implies  a 
'1^  good  man,  for  the  character  is  man's  self. 

And  the  hereafter?  While  faith  alone  can  inspire 
those  acts  that  are  truly  pleasing  to  God,  He  in  His  final 
^Maeterlink,  Wisdom  and  Destiny,  p»  3Z« 


CHARACTER  AND  DESTINY  tag 

tribunal  will  render  **  to  every  man  according  to  his  deeds," 
— his  conduct,  the  expression  of  his  character.  Let  us 
then,  in  view  of  the  supreme  importance  of  this  subject, 
try  and  give  finally  a  few  practical  hints  as  to  the  forma- 
tion of  character,  first  by  others,  and  then  by  oneself. 

Parents  nowadays  are  slowly  and  dimly  beginning  Formation  ot 

^  ^  ^  o  o  Character  by 

to  see  that  they  stand  face  to  face  with  a  most  inter- Parents. 
esting  and  difficult  task,  with  which  is  bound  up  in  a 
way  that  was  little  understood  a  few  years  ago  the 
welfare  and  destiny  of  their  children.  Fatalism  has 
had  its  day,  cause  and  effect  are  more  clearly  seen 
everywhere,  the  sowing  and  the  reaping  follow  each 
other  without  question,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  faith  no 
longer  casts  a  doubt  on  the  reality  of  this  process,  but 
appears  in  its  true  light  as  the  only  power  that  can 
enable  it  to  be  carried  on  to  the  glory  of  God. 

As  parents,  therefore,  we  must  ever  accustom  our-'); 
selves  to  look  at  our  children  through  a  mental  Rontgen  'j ../  (c 
screen  (which,  as  most  of  us  know,  enables  us  with  a 
certain  light  to  see  the  whole  inner  workings   of  the 
human  body).      So  we,  disregarding  external   details, 
must  regard  in  our  children  the  nascent  characters ;  we 
must  be  able  to  pierce  through  the  outward  covering 
and  discern  the  spirit  growing  before  our  eyes.      But 
we  must  not  only  be   admiring  spectators  ;   we  must  U 
earnestly  pray  for  wisdom  as  gardeners,  and,  using  all    « 
the  knowledge  that  is  accessible,  must  seek  to  nip  the 
evil    tendency  in  the  bud,   to  uproot  the  weed,  while 
we  encourage  the  tender  plant  and  water  the  growing 
shoots. 


"7 


aao  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

Twelve  Tools         For  all  this  the  gardener  has  his  tools,  tools  Nature 

for  forming 

Character.  is  cvcr  using  herself,  but  tools  also  that  with  reverent 
care  may  immensely  help  the  character  to  develop  and 
grow  on  right  lines. 

1.  We  have  the  power  of  forming  habits  of  good, 
of  moral  value  in  the  young  child  as  none  others 
have. 

2.  We  can  control  the  child's  environment,  so  that 
suggestions  of  good,  physical,  mental  and  moral,  and 
not  of  evil,  are  ever  unconsciously  sowing  themselves 
in  its  brain. 

3.  We  have  the  power,  by  example  and  story,  of 
filling  the  child  with  inspiring  ideals,  so  as  to  give 
direction  to  its  will  and  energy  of  growth  to  its  char- 
acter. 

4.  We  can  feed  the  child's  mind  with  ideas,  the 
character  of  which  is  nearly  all  under  our  control,  and 
on  which  the  quality  of  the  child's  future  character 
so  largely  depends. 

5.  We  can  exercise  the  child's  growing  moral  powers 
with  circumstances,  not  too  smooth,  so  that  "overcom- 
ing "  and  "  courage  "  may  be  learned  and  hardships 
endured ;  not  too  rough,  so  that  the  young  growth 
may  not  be  discouraged. 

6.  We  can,  by  watching  the  various  tendencies,  balance 
the  one  against  the  other,  so  as  to  prevent  the  character 
straggling  too  far  in  any  one  direction. 

7.  We  can  strengthen  the  willj  and  make  it  cany 
out  its  own  designs,  and  accustom  it  to  act  with  energy 
and  decision. 


CHARACTER  AND  DESTINY  231 

8.  We  can  educate  the  moral  sense  with  reverent 
care  ;  keeping  it  tender  in  its  sensitiveness  to  evil,  and 
only  putting  such  standards  before  it  that  we  know  will 
hold  good  through  life. 

9.  We  can  increase  the  sense  of  responsibility^  first  to 
oneself,  then  to  others,  and,  above  all,  to  God. 

10.  We  can  by  direct  teaching  instil  the  leading 
moral  principles  of  action ;  and  can  imbue  the  young 
mind  with  the  sequence,  and  all-importance,  of  cause 
and  effect.    ^ 

11.  We  can  by  inspiring  an  unquestioning  reverence 
and  faith  in  God,  and  in  Christ  as  our  Saviour,  cultivate 
the  spirit  of  humility  and  dependence  on  the  power  of 
His  Spirit  to  produce  in  the  life  the  character  that 
pleases  Him. 

12.  We  can  understand  and  obey  the  two  Bible 
maxims  for  child  training  :  *•  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way 
he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart 
from  it,"  and  "Offend  not,  hinder  not,  despise  not  one 
of  these  little  ones  **. 

When  we  turn  to  the  training  of  one's  own  character 
the  question  is  a  different  one.  A  parent  can  do  all  we 
have  indicated  without  in  the  least  turning  the  child's 
thoughts  too  much  inwardly  or  producing  any  unhealthy 
introspection  or  self-consciousness.  But  in  training  one's 
own  character  how  is  this  to  be  avoided  ? 

Only  by  not  making  it  an  object. 

Let  the  ideal  for  which  life  is  being  lived  be  clearly  The  ideal 
realised;  let  it  be  the  highest  and  best;  and  let  it  be^"*'* 
steadily  pursued»aad  all  that  would  turn  it  aside  into 


232  SPRINGS  OF  CHARACTER 

lower  and  easier  paths  be  suppressed.  The  character 
will  thus  grow  in  the  likeness  of  that  which  it  is  following 
and  if  that  object  be  Christ,  the  character  will  evidently 
and  naturally  become  Christian. 

At  the  same  time  it  may  be  remembered  that  good 
habits  can  be  formed  to  overcome  evil  as  long  as  life  and 
mental  faculties  endure ;  that  surroundings  always  help 
or  hinder ;  that  ideas  still  feed  or  poison ;  that  circum- 
stances are  still  of  the  utmost  use  in  producing  vigour 
and  self-control ;  that  conscience  may  be  used  or  abused, 
cultivated  or  deadened ;  and  that  lastly  and  finally 
j  religion  may  be  made  a  collection  of  dead  dogmas  which 
•dwarf  and  atrophy  the  character,  or  true  Christianity 
may  become  the  breath  of  life,  the  inspiring  ideal,  that, 
by  •  sowmg  "  the  character  aright,  "  reaps  "  the  Eternal 
Destiny  hereafter,  where  "  self "  at  last  is  gone,  and 
where  the  personality  is  but  the  reflex  of  the  Eternal ; 
where  "  non  noOis "  is  the  eternal  cry,  and  where  Christ  is 
all  in  all 


LIST  OF  BOOKS  ON  THE  SUBJECT. 


Abercrombie,  On  tk*  Moral  FteUngs, 

Anon.,  Character  in  the  Face, 

Aristotle,  Ethics, 

„        Moral  Philosophy. 

Bailey,  S.,  Letters  on  the  Human  Mind, 

Bain,  A.,  Emotions  and  Will. 
^       „        On  the  Study  of  Character. 

Bastian,  C,  Brain  as  an  Organ  of  Mind. 

Bosanquet,  B.,  Psychology  of  the  Moral  S*tf» 

Bryant,  D.  S.,  Educational  Ends. 
„  Studies  in  Character. 

Buchanan,  Moral  Education. 

Carpenter,  W.  B.,  Mental  Physiology. 

Christian  Review,  Vol.  III.,  "  Forming  of  Character  *•. 

Coombe,  A.,  The  Constitution  of  Man. 

Courtenay,  L.,  Constructive  Ethics. 

„  "  Science  of  Character  "  {Nat.  Rev..  i&joT. 

Davison,  The  Christian  Conscience. 

Dawson,  W.  J.,  Making  of  Mankind. 

Donaldson,  H.  H.,  The  Growth  ofthi  Brmm, 

Emerson,  Essays., 

Evil  and  Evolution. 

Ferrier,  D.,  Functions  of  the  Bnirn* 
^Fowler,  Progressive  Morality. 
'jFroebel,  Education  of  Man. 

Galton,  Education  and  Heredity, 
^  Gilman,  Laws  of  Daily  Conduct. 
'  Groser,  H.  S.,  The  Kingdom  of  Manhood, 
^^arris,  G.,  Moral  Evolution. 

Hartman,  Von,  Philosophy  of  the  Unconscious. 

Henderson,  Character  in  Common  Life. 

Hesperian,  The,  Vol.  I.,  ••  Forming  of  Character  ** 

Hillis,  N.  D.,  Man's  Value  to  Society. 

Huxley,  Evolution  and  Ethics. 

Hyde,  J.,  Elements  of  Character. 

(233) 


«S4  SPRINGS   OF  CHARACTER 

International  yournal  of  Ethics  y  189098. 
James,  W.,  Principles  of  Psychology, 

„  Psychology. 

Jordan,  F.,  Anatomy  in  Character, 
Kant,  E.,  Anthropologie. 

„         Critique  of  Pure  Reason, 
Ladd,  The  Philosophy  of  Mind. 
Lewes,  C.  H.,  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind. 
London  Magazine,  Vol.  III.,  '♦  Personal  Charactcf  **• 
Lotze,  Microcosmus. 
Maeterlink,  The  Treasure  of  the  HumhU, 

„  Wisdom  and  Destiny. 

Martin,  A.,  L*Education  du  Caractere. 
Marti neau,  D.  J.,  Types  of  Ethical  Theorfm 
Maudsley,  H.,  Body  and  Will. 

„  Physiology  of  Mind, 

Maurice,  F.  D.,  The  Conscience.- 
McCosh,  Dr.,  The  Motive  Powers,  "^ 
M'Cunn,  The  Making  of  Character, 
Mill,  J.  S.,  System  of  Logic  Ethology, 
Miller,  J.  R.,  Building  of  Character, 
Mind,  1894,  1896,  1897. 
Morgan,  C.  Lloyd,  The  Springs  of  ConducL 
Morison,  J.  C,  On  Conscience. 
Morley,  J.,  Modern  Characteristics, 
Murray,  D.  C,  Handbook  of  Ethics. 
National  Review,  1890,  "  Science  of  Cnaracter  ** 
Nisbet,  J.  F.,  The  Human  Machine, 
Paulham,  F.,  Les  Caracteres. 
Payn,  C.  H.,  Character-Building, 
Perez,  B.,  Le  Caractere. 
Pierson,  A.  T.,  Life  Powert, 
Plato,  Republic. 

Pollock,  D.  J.,  in  Book  of  Health, 
Porter,  Noah,  Human  Intellect. 
Preyer,  W.,  The  Infant  Mind.  .^ 
Reynolds,   E.    W.,   "Elements    of   Character"    {University    Quarterly 

Review,  Vol.  XIL). 
Ribot,  E.,  German  Psychology, 

„         Heredity. 

„         Maladies  de  la  Volonti, 
Robertson,  J.  D.,  Conscience. 
Royce,  Dr.,  Studies  of  Good  and  EviL 
Ruskin,  J.,  Collected  Works, 


LIST  OF  BOOKS  ON  THE   SUBJECT  ^35 

S ,  J.  C,  Character  and  its  External  Signs.^^ 

Schofield,  A.  T.,  Another  World,  or  the  Fourth  Dimension, 

„  „       The  Unconscious  Mind. 

Schopenhauer,  The  Human  Nature. 
Scripture,  Prof.,  The  New  Psychology, 

„  „      Thinking,  Feeling,  Doing* 

Sidgwick,  H.,  Method  of  Ethics, 
Smiles,  S.,  Character. 
Smythe,  T.,  Christian  Ethics. 
Spencer,  Herbert,  Data  of  Ethics, 
„  „        Data  of  Psychology, 

„  „        Education. 

,,  „        Social  Statics, 

Stephen,  Leslie,  Science  of  Ethics, 
Stewart,  A.,  Our  Temperaments. 
Stout,  G.  F.,  Analytical  Psychology, 
Sully,  J.,  Sensation  and  Intuition, 

„        The  Human  Mind. 
Temple,  E.,  Life's  Questions. 
Theophrastus,  The  Characters, 
Tweed,  F.  B.,  "Formation  of  Character"  (University   Quarterly  Jl#. 

view,  Vol.  XIII.). 
Wait,  Lehrbuch  der  Psychology, 
Wedgwood,  The  Moral  Ideal. 
Wentworth,  Logic  of  Introspection, 
Whittaker,  Prof.,  Essays  in  Psychology, 
Williams,  C.  N.,  Evolutional  Ethicsj 
Wundt,  Beitrage  sur  Theorte^  etS. 

Ethics. 
Ziegler,  Social  Ethits, 


INDEX. 


Abdalrahman  on  pleasure,  136. 
Absolute  and  relative,  141. 
Abstract  senses,  conscience,  171. 
„  „      The  three,  176. 

„  „       right     and    wrong, 

177. 
„  „       Inscrutable     origin 

of,  178. 
ft  N       God-given,  179. 

„  „       and  conscience  con- 

trasted, 179. 
Abstract  and  special  senses,  178. 
Action,  Unconscious,  and  merit,  59. 
„       and  ethics,  72. 
„       and  responsibility,  159. 
„       and  morality,  159. 
„       Right,  160. 
„       expresses  character,  162. 
„       Character  expressed  by,  162. 
„       Slow  and  prompt,  168. 
A.  D.  and  children,  62. 
Adverse   circumstances,   Value   of, 

103. 
Adversity,  Jeremy  Taylor  on,  104. 

„        and  character,  130. 
Advice.  Prof.  M'Cunn  on  good,  95. 
iEsthetic  sense,  176. 
Age  and  character,  128. 
„   and  conscience,  185. 
„      „  „         Earl  Barnes  on, 

185. 
Aim  of  life  not  character,  92. 
Altruism  and  egotism,  142. 
Altruistic  character  of  woman,  126. 
„         and  egotistic  motives,  133. 
Analogy  between  mental  and  phy- 
sical, 8. 
Analysis  of  chapters,  220-224. 

„       of  character,  112-136,  222. 
,,        of  qualities,  148. 
Antiphonal  virtues,  140. 


Apperception,  96, 127. 

„  Maeterlink  on,  96. 

Aristotle  and  Plato,  Ethics  of,  46. 
„       on  a  good  conscience,  201. 
„        on    philosophical    inquiry, 
136. 
Art  and  science,  42. 
„     „         „       as  educators,  107. 
AkTtificial  self,  21. 

„       education,  Evils  of,  66. 
„        and  natural  education,  106. 
„        conscience,  187. 
„  „  Evils  of,  188. 

„        moral  standards,  193. 
Assertion  of  the  unconscious,  114. 
Atavism  and  heredity,  61. 
Atmosphere  of  thought,  105. 
Attitude  of  body  and  mental  statts, 

32. 
Augustine,  St.,  Ladder  of,  90. 

„  „    on  the  seven  Chris* 

tian  virtues,  51. 

Bad  habits,  74. 
„    qualities,  List  of,  151. 

Bain  on  phrenology,  39. 

Balanced  characters,  137. 

Balance  of  truth,  144. 

Balancing  character  by  parents,  930. 

Bank  of  character,  202. 

Bastian,  C,  on  unconscious  mind  ac- 
tion, 70. 

Bentham  on  pain  and  pleasure,  134. 

Bible  and  looking-glass,  17. 
„     maxims  and  parents,  231, 
„     view  of  conscience,  175. 

Birth,  The  new,  214. 

„        „       „      What  is  it  ?  214. 

Bishop  Butler  on  conscience,  175. 
„      of  London  on  Christian  Hfe, 
axz. 


«38 


INDEX 


Bodies,  Strong  and  weik,  33 
Bodily  attitudes  and  mentu 

32- 
Body  afiects  the  character,  33. 
„    altered  by  character,  30. 
„    and  character,  29-41,  220. 
„     and  mind,  Interaction  of,  29. 
Boors  and  gentlemen,  23. 
Bryant,   Dr.   S.,  on    introspection, 
116. 
„        on  self-consciousness,  18. 
„        on  selfishness,  142. 
Burnett,  F.  H.,  on  childhood's  con- 
science, 184. 
Business,  Low  morals  in,  194. 
„        standards  are  low,  195. 
„  „     Cause  of  low,  195. 

Cairo,  Prof.,  on  forming  character, 

103. 
Canon  Gore  on  conscience,  198. 
Cardinal  virtues.  Four,  4. 
Caricatures  and  portraits,  27. 
Carlyle  on  circumstances,  102. 
Carpenter  on  environment,  75. 
Cause  of  low  business  standard,  195. 
Centre  of  character,  212. 
Change  of  character,  Maeterlink  on, 

215. 
Chapters,  Analysis  of,  220-224. 
Character,  Analysis  of,  ir2-T36,  222. 

„         affected  by  the  body,  32. 

„  „        by  health,  33. 

„         affects  conduct,  168. 

„  and  adversity,  130. 

„         and  age,  128. 

„  and  the  body,  29-41. 

M         and  Christianity,  205-219, 
224. 

M         and    conduct,     163-169, 
223. 

M         and  conscience,  170-304, 
202,  223. 

ff         and  consistency,  91. 

M         and  cultivation,  93. 

M         and  destiny,  220. 

f(  „         „       connection 

of,  225. 

M         and  deterioration,  27,  93. 

M         and  dress,  109. 

M         and  ethics,  42-55. 

M         and  food,  109. 

M         and  growth,  88-iii. 

n         and  habit,  69-87,  221. 

«         and  heredity,  56-68,  331. 


Character  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  164. 
„         and  ideals,  81. 
„  and  intellect,  72. 

M         and  introspection,  8a. 
M         and  life,  10. 
M         and  love,  2x6. 
„         and  memory,  131. 
M         and  the  mind,  i-ta,  226. 
M         and  modern  progress,  xo8. 
ff         and    personality,    13-28, 

220. 
M         and  responsibility,  11. 
M         and  the  unconscious,  3. 
M         andthewill,  118, 153-161, 

222. 
M         and  training  of  thought, 

164. 
M         and  true  religion,  225. 
M         an  organic  whole,  1. 
„  Bailey's  elements  of,  119. 

„         balanced  by  parents,  230. 
M         cause  of  action,  Ribot  on, 

163. 
^         Centre  of,  212. 
M         Change    of,    Maeterlink 

on,  215. 
M         Christian    and    natoial, 

212. 
w         Christianity  standard  of^ 

208. 
,0         of  Christ,  140. 
ft  Classification  of,  37. 

M  Components  of,  118. 

M  Conscious  education  of^ 

log. 
f^         controlled  by  will,  156. 
19         determines  destiny,  227. 
M         Effects  of  circumstances 

on,  loi. 
n         Effect  of  workman's  life 

on,  79. 
M         Effects  of  professional  life 

on,  77. 
I,  „     of  one  on  another, 

80. 
M         Epictetus  on,  11. 
M         expressed  by  actions,  163, 

166. 
^         Formation  of,  9. 
M         Formation  of,  by  parent!^ 

229. 
M  Greatness  of,  228. 

„  Grouping  of,  130. 

M         growing  and  stationarjTt 

37. 


INDEX 


»39 


Character  growth,  Rate  of,  gi. 

„  Habit  is  a  spring  of,  71. 

„  How  does  it  grow  ?  go. 

„  Ideas  as  the  food  of,  g8. 

„  Importance  of,  10. 

„         impressed  on  the  body, 

30.  ^ 
^  Ingredients  of,  137. 

M         in  two  sexes,  121. 
^  in  the  face,  31. 

„  Insight  into,  25. 

„         is  myself,  13,  28. 
M  Life  not  aim  of,  92. 

M         like  ferments,  80. 
M  like  ozone,  81. 

„         Maeterlink    on    useless, 

132. 
^  Mainspring  of,  153. 

10         may  be  transmitted.  60. 
„  Meaning  of  the  word,  i. 

„  J.  S.  Mill  on  formation 

of,  172. 

10  Moral  elements  in,  170. 
If         more  than  conduct,  6z, 

168. 
If         Motives  of.  II,  132,  146. 
If         not    changed    suddenly, 

215- 

I,  of  a  gardener,  79. 

If         of  a  miner,  81. 
If  of  doctor,  78. 

If         of  men,  124. 
If  of  sailor,  77. 

If  of  soldier,  78. 

11  of  woman,  121. 
If  Principles  of,  119. 

If  Prof.  Caird  on  forming, 
103. 

ff         Purposeless,  132. 

ff  Qualities  of,  137-152.  222. 

If  Rare,  Emerson  on,  131. 

n  Rational,  138. 

If  Religious,  of  woman,  126. 

If  Science  of,  36. 

If  The  springs  of,  2,  57. 

If  Stationary,  89. 

If  Summary  of  growth  of, 
no. 

If         Twelve  tools  for,  230. 

If  Types  of,  F.  Jordan  on, 
40. 

If         Value  of,  228. 

„  Various  means  of  discern- 
ing, 41. 

M         Varieties  of,  laS. 


Character,  Well  balanced,  137. 

Child  training,  G.  Macdonald  on,65. 

Childhood's  conscience,  F.  H.  Bur- 
nett, 184. 

Children  and  consciousness,  ii2. 
,,        Value  of  habit  in,  70. 

Children's  character,  F.  Gaiton  ORi 
63. 

Children,  Conscience  in,  184. 

Children's  six  parents,  61. 

Children  and  A.  D.,  62. 

„       and  Rontgcn  screen,  aag. 

Children's  individuality,  64. 

Child's  soul,  love  and  light,  63. 

Choice  of  Christianity,  Ruskin  on, 
200. 

Christ,  Character  of,  140. 
,,      Imitation  of,  217, 

Christ's  example,  Following,  218. 

Christian  and  natural  character,  212. 
„       conception  of  conscience, 

J73- 
„       doctrine,   Impmtance   o^ 

so- 
il      ethics,  49-55 
II       ethics  psychological,  50. 
II        Greek  and  moral  ethics,45. 
II        ideals,  85,  210. 
„        ideals,  Pearson  on  loss  of, 
209. 
Christianity  and  character,  205-219, 
224. 
II  and  egotism,  53. 

n  Impossible  standard  of, 

225. 
If  lies  in  the  unconsciont, 

211-214. 
If  and  modern  views,  205. 

If  the  standard    of   cha- 

racter, 208. 
„  Story  of,  225. 

„  superseded,  205. 

Christian  life,  Creighton  on,  2x1. 
„  „     Emerson  on,  210. 

„  „     The  goal  of,  218. 

„        morality  without  doctrine, 

207. 
„        religion  or  ethics,  49. 
„        virtues,  Seven,  51. 
Circular  characters,  141. 
Circumstances  as  exercises,  lor. 
„  Carlyle  on,  102. 

I,  change       character, 

102. 
N  and  conduct,  165. 


INDEX 


Cifcumstances  and  parents,  230. 

„  Value  of  adverse,  103. 

Coleridge  on  expediency,  135. 
Coloured  likenesses,  23. 
Common  sense  and  harmony,  139. 
„  „      Emerson  on,  139. 

„        words,  Value  of,  171. 
Components  of  characters,  1 18. 

„  „  „      Dr.  Green's 

list,  1x9. 
Compound  characters,  130. 

„  and  mixture,  129. 

Conception  of  conscience,  Christian, 

173. 

„  „  „    Greek,  172. 

„  „  „    Hebrew,  172. 

Concepts  of  religion,  51. 
Conduct    and    character,    x62-i69, 
223. 

„      and  circumstances,  165. 

^       and  morality,  169. 

M      affects  character,  168. 

M      better      than       character. 
Reasons  for,  167. 

M      Character  more  than,  i6x, 
x68. 

M      Good,  160. 

M      influenced  by  ideas,  97. 

M      in  small  matters,  166. 

M       Maudsley  on,  163. 

„       Motives  of,  163. 

^      Plato  on,  159. 

„       Ruskin  on,  165. 

„       Varieties  of,  165. 

„       What  is  it  ?  165. 
Conflict  of  natures,  146. 
Conflicting  natures,  St.  Paul  on,  147. 
Connection  of  character  and  destiny, 

225. 

Conscience  and  character,  170-204, 

202,  223. 
M  and  ethics,  43,  221. 

^         and  "  ought,"  200. 
I,  and  pain,  199. 

^         and  the  E^ro,  181. 
g,  and  the  mind,  182. 

I,  and  virtue,  203. 

^         Aristotle    on    a    good, 

20X. 
p         •■  enlightened  reason, 

173- 

n  as  individual  self-preser 

vation,  173. 

n  as  social  self-preserva- 
tion, 174. 


Conscience  as   the  abstract   sense, 

X71. 
„  at  different  ages,  185. 

M  Bible  view  of,  175. 

M  Bishop  Butler  on,  175. 

n  Canon  Gore  on,  198. 

N  Conception  of,  173. 

M  contrasted  with  abstract 

sense,  179. 
M  Darwin  on,  r76. 

M  Dionysius  on,  X72. 

M  Fowler,  Dr.,  on,  X74. 

M  Martineau,  Dr.,  on  wan 

of.  193. 
M  Education  of,  183,  186. 

H  Evils  of  artificial,  188. 

w         God    speaks     through, 

198. 
H  in  children,  184. 

„  „        „     F.  H.  Burnett 

on,  184. 
M  in    men    and    women, 

185. 
n  is  moral  consciousness, 

181. 
M         is  sometimes  immoral, 

175. 

H  Kant  on,  180. 

„  Lewes,  G.  H.,  on,  174. 

M  must  be  obeyed,  206. 

„  not  always  a  guide,  193. 

^  not  the  voice  of  God, 
iSo,  183. 

If  obeyed  involves  suffer- 
ing, 203. 

n  often  against  reason, 
174. 

M  or  the  moral  sense,  170. 

M  Power  of,  199. 

„  Prick  of,  197,  198. 

^  Shairp,  Prof.,  on,  175. 

„  Rarity  of  natural,  187. 

M  Standards  of,  184,  193. 

„  States  of,  191. 

M  Stevenson,  L.,  on,  174. 

M  The  artificial,  187. 

„  The  educated,  186. 

M  The  idea  of  a,  172. 

^  The  natural,  183. 

^  The  three  voices,  197. 

„  Torture  of,  178,  180. 

„  Varieties  of,  191. 

„  Voice  of,  197. 

^  Volition  no  part  of,  182. 

«  What  is  it  ?  X73. 


INDEX 


•4» 


Conscious  and  nnconsciom  minds, 
education  of,  167. 
„  „  „     selves,  23. 

„  „  „     will,  155. 

M  conduct,  z66. 

M         education   of  character, 
109. 
Contdoasness  and  children,  112. 

„  conscious  and  uncon- 

scious, Qualities  of,  113. 
M  and  the  mind,  56. 

„  Value  of,  115. 

Consistency  and  character,  91. 
Contrasts  between  men  and  women, 

124. 
Contrast  of  conscience  and  abstract 

senses,  179. 
Coombe  on  phrenology,  38. 
Correspondence  of  mental  and  phy- 
sical types,  33. 
Courtenay,  L.,  on  personality,  13. 

„  It    on  temperament,  40. 

Court  of  law,  The  mind  as,  116. 
Crdghton,  Dr.,  on  the  unconscious 
mind,  5. 
„  M     on    Christian    life, 

211. 
Cultivation  of  character,  93. 

Damqbri  of  habit,  73. 

„        of  introspection,  18. 
Danger  of  low  business  standards, 

195- 
M       of  materialism,  M'Cunn  on, 

195. 
Darwin  on  conscience,  175. 
Deadly  sins,  Seven,  51. 
Decision  and  will,  157. 
Dependence  and  obedience,  216. 
Destiny  and  character,  220. 

(,         „  „  Connection 

of,  225. 
„       determined   by   character, 
227. 
Details  of  growth,  93. 
Deterioration  of  character,  27,  92, 
Development  and  growth,  88. 
„  and  repression,  89. 

„  of  morals.  Local,  44. 

Difficulties  of  ethology,  37. 
Digestion  of  ideas,  99. 
Dionysius  on  conscience,  179. 
Disaster  of  lost  ideals,  83. 
Discontent,  Divine,  94, 
Doctor,  Character  of,  /8. 


Doctrine,  Importance  of,  50. 

„        Instinct  often  better  than, 
163. 
Dress  and  character,  zog. 

Earl   Barnes   on  age   and  con- 
science, 185. 
Early  training.  Methods  of,  65. 
Education  by  science  and  art,  107. 
„         Evils  of  artificial,  66. 
,t         Natural  and  artificial,  106. 
M         of  character,  Conscious, 

109. 
N         of  conscience,  183,  186. 
tt         of  conscious  and  uncon- 
scious minds,  167. 
n         of  the  mind,  106. 
„  Unconscious,  67,  106. 

Effects  of  circumstances  on  char- 
acter, lOI. 
„       of  one  character  on  another, 

80. 
M       of  professional  life  on  char- 
acter, 77. 
w       of  workman's  life  on  char- 
acter, 79. 
Ego  and  consciousness,  181. 
„    only  known  to  God,  28. 
„    Prof.  James  on,  13. 
„    What  it  is,  14. 
Egotism  and  altruism,  142, 

„       and  Christianity,  53. 
Egotistic  and  altruistic,  133. 
Egypt,  Conscience  in,  172. 
Elements  of  character,  Bailey  on, 

119. 
Emerson  on  common  sense,  139. 
„        on  Christian  life,  210. 
„        on  man's  soul,  57. 
„        on  men  of  character,  81. 
„        on  rare  characters,  131. 
„         on  unconscious  mind,  8. 
Emotion  and  intellect,  143. 
Environment  and  habit,  67,  75. 
„  and  heredity,  67. 

n  and  parents,  230. 

M  and  self,  22. 

M  Carpenter  on,  75. 

„  made  by  us,  75. 

„  Pollock,  Dr.  J.  on,  75. 

„  Value  of,  75. 

Epictetus  on  character,  zi. 
Epicureanism,  53. 
Error  and  habit,  73. 
Ethics  and  action,  79. 


24* 


INDEX 


Ethics  and  character,  42-53,  221. 
M       and  Christian  religion,  49. 
„       and  conscience,  43. 
„       Christian,  49,  55. 
„       Christian  psychological,  50. 
„      Greek  Christian  and  modern, 

45- 

M       Greek  unpsychological,  46. 

M       Later  Greek,  48. 

„       Modern  system  of,  52. 

„       of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  46. 

„       Religion  more  than,  49. 
Ethnology  and  ethology,  37. 
Ethology,  36. 

„        Difficulties  of,  37. 
„        Failure  to  establish,  40. 
Evil  eye,  Ruskin  on,  83. 
Evils  of  artificial  conscience,  188. 

„     „        „        education,  66. 

„     „        „         institutions,  77. 

„     ,,        „        love  of  money,  196. 
Evolutionary  Hedonism,  54. 
Exaggerated  virtues,  143. 
Example  of  Christ,  Following,  218. 
Exercise  and  food,  Growth  by,  95. 
Expediency,  Coleridge  on,  135. 

Face  and  character,  31. 
Failure  of  introspection,  xxo. 
Faith  and  works,  227. 

„     in  God,  231. 
False  religious  standards,  190. 
Family  life,  F.  Herbart  on  value  of, 
76. 
„        „    Value  of,  70. 
Ferments,  Character  like,  80. 
Fiction,  M'Cunn  on  value  of^  98. 
Following  Christ's  example,  218. 
Food  and  character,  109. 
„     and  exercise,  Growth  by,  95. 
,     of  character,  Ideas  as  the,  98. 
Formation  of  character,  g. 

„  „        „  by  parents,  229. 

„  „  habit,  69,  75. 

Forming  character  by  twelve  tools, 
230. 
H  M  Prof.   Caird  on, 

103. 
Four  cardinal  virtues,  47. 
Fourth  dimension.  The,  212. 
Fowler,  Dr.,  on  conscience,  174. 
Fraudulent  self,  23. 
Freedom  of  the  will,  153. 

„  w        „     J.  S.  Mill  on, 

156. 


Gall  and  Spurzeim's  phrenoIoQrt 

36. 
Galton,  F.,  on  children's  character, 

63. 
Gardener,  Character  of,  79. 
Gardeners,  Parents  as,  229. 
Geniuses,  65. 
Gentlemen  and  boors,  23. 
Goal  of  Christian  life,  218. 
God-given,  Abstract  senses,  179. 
God,  Herbert  Spencer  on,  213. 

„     only  knows  the  Ego,  15,  28. 

,,    speaks    through     conscience, 
198. 
God's  guidance,  Ruskin  on,  2x6. 
God's  voice.  Conscience  is  not,  x8o, 

183. 
Goethe  on  pleasure,  136, 
Good  advice.  Prof.  M'Cunn  on,  95. 

„     conduct,  160. 

„     conscience,  Aristotle  on,  20X. 

„     ideas.  Value  of,  loi. 
Greatness  of  character,  228. 

„         of  truth,  138. 
Greek,  Christian  and  modern  ethics, 

45. 

„     conception  of  conscience,  X73. 

„     ethics  unpsychological,  46. 

„     later  ethics,  48. 
Green,  Dr.  E.,  on  components  tA 

character,  X19. 
Groupings  of  character,  130. 
Growing  characters.  27. 
Growth  and  character,  88,  222. 

„       and  development,  88. 

„       by  food  and  exercise,  95. 

„       Details  of,  93. 

„       not  from  poor  stock,  93. 

H       of  character,  91. 

M       „         „  M'Cnnn     on, 

lOX. 

I,        t»         »i         Summary    of^ 
no. 
Guide,  Conscience  not  always  a,  193. 

Habit  and  character,  69-87,  22X. 

„  and  environment,  67,  75. 

„  and  error,  74. 

„  and  morality,  72. 

„  and  moral  value,  73. 

„  and  pleasure,  74. 

„  a  spring  of  character,  71. 

„  Dangers  of,  73, 

„  Dr.  Hill  on  inheritance  oS,  6(V 

„  Formation  of,  69,  75. 


INDEX 


243 


Habit  formed  by  ideals,  8i. 

„      in  childhood,  Value  of,  70. 
Habits  and  parents,  230. 

„      bad,  74. 
Happiness  and  ideals,  86. 
Harmony  and  common  sense,  139. 
Health  affects  character,  33. 
Hebrew  conception  of  conscience, 

^73- 
Hedonism,  Evolutionary,  54. 

„  Universal  and  personal, 

52. 
,,  Utilitarian,  54. 

Herbart,  F.,  on  life,  76. 
Herbert  Spencer  on  conscious  edu- 
cation,  109. 
M  M        on  God,  213. 

^  „        onlrighi-doing,  72. 

^  M        on     self  •  control, 

157. 
„  „        on  the  Ego,  14. 

Hereditary  qualities,  65. 
Heredity  and  altruism,  61. 

„         and  character,  56-58,  221. 
,,         and  environment,  67. 
„         principles.  Training  of,  65. 
Heterodoxy  and  homodoxy,  100. 
High  ideals,    Maeterlink    on,  209, 

?i8. 
Higher  moral  ideals,  M*Cuim  on, 

ig6. 
Hill,    Dr.    A.,   CD    inheriUnce    of 

habit,  60. 
Holman,   Prot,  on    inherited  ten- 
dencies, 62. 
Holmes,  O.  W.'s  three  Johns,  15. 
Homodoxy  and  heterodoxy,  100, 
Homologous  ideas,  100. 
How  does  character  grow  ?  90. 

„     to  speak  the  truth,  145. 
Human  hie,  G.  H.  Lewes  on,  9. 
Humour,  Dr.  Jackson  on,  144. 

„        Value  of,  144. 
Huxley  on   physical    and    psychic 
progress,  133. 
„        on   transmitted    character, 
60. 
Hyde  and  Jekyll,  133,  142-146. 

Ideal  of  life,  231. 
Ideals  and  character,  81. 

„     and  happiness,  86. 

^     and  moral  sense,  8a. 

M     and  parents,  230. 

«     Christian,  85,  210. 


Ideals,  Pierson,  Dr.  A.  T.,  on  lost  or, 

2og. 
„     lost.  Disaster  of^  83. 
„     Negative,  84. 
„      sell,  8^. 
„      Scale  of,  84. 
„      Social,  85. 
Idea  of  a  conscience,  17a. 
Ideas  as  lood,  gb. 
„     and  parents,  230. 
„      Digestion  of,  99. 
„     Importance  of  initial,  97. 
„     influence  conduct,  97. 
„     Mason,  C.  on,  96.  97. 
„     must  be  homologous,  xoo. 
„     Poisonous,  99. 
„     Value  of  good,  loi, 
„     What  they  are,  96. 
Imitation  of  Christ,  2x7. 
Importance  of  character,  10. 

„  of  Christian  doctrine,  50. 

Impossible,  The  pursuit  of  the,  219. 
„  standard  of  Christianity, 

225. 
Incomplete  selves,  21. 
Index  of  character  in  face,  3X« 
Indigestible  ideas,  99. 
Individuality  in  children,  64. 
Individual    self  preservation.    Con- 
science as,  173. 
Ingredients  of  character,  137. 
Inheritance  of  habit.  Dr.  Hill  on, 

60. 
Inheritance  of  tendencies,  62. 
Inherited  tendencies.  Prof.  Holman 

on,  62. 
Initial  ideas.  Importance  of,  97. 
Inscrutable  origin  of  abstract  senses, 

178. 
Insight  into  character,  25. 
Instinct  and  reason.    Conflict    be- 
tween, 116,  160. 
„       often  better  than  doctrine, 
163. 
Institutions,  Evils  of,  77. 
In  it  ruction  by  love,  106. 
Intellect  and  character,  12. 
,,         and  emotions,  143. 
,,         Revolt  of,  226. 
Interaction  of  mind  and  body,  29. 
Introspection,   Bryant,  Dr.  S.,  on, 
116. 
„  Danger  of,  18. 

M  Failure  of,  1 10. 

n  good  and  bad,  17. 


INDEX 


Introspection  of  character,  82. 
Invisibility  of  real  self,  16. 

Jambs,  Prof.,  on  selfishness,  143. 

„  „     on  the  Ego,  13. 

Jekyll  and  Hyde,  129,  142-146. 
Jeremy  Taylor  on  adversity,  104. 
Jones,  Sir  William,  on  life,  g. 
Jordan's,  Furneaux,  types  of  char* 

acter,  40. 
Judgment  of  self  by  others,  S5. 

Kant  on  conscience,  180. 
„     on  the  unconscious,  4. 

Ladder  of  St.  Augustine,  90. 
Latin  Greek  ethics,  48. 
Lewes,  G.  H.,  on  conscience,  174. 
,.  ,t       on  human  life,  9. 

»i  •»       on   the  unconscious 

mind,  7. 
Life  and  character,  10 

n    Character  not  aim  of,  92. 

„    Emerson  on  Christian,  210. 

M    Goal  of  Christian,  218. 

„    Ideal  of,  231. 

N    is  the  light  of  men,  9. 

„    of  a  Christian,  Dr.  Creighton 
on,  211. 

J,    Sir  W.  Jones  on,  9. 
Light  for  seeing  self,  20. 
Likenesses,  Coloured,  23. 
Limbs  of  the  mind.  Ruskin  M,  165. 
List  of  bad  qualities,  151. 

„    of  good  qualities,  r49-i5i. 
Local  development  and  morals,  44. 
Logical  sense,  176. 
Looking-glass  and  Bible,  17. 
Loss  of  Christian  ideals,  Pearson  on, 

209. 
Lost  ideals,  Disaster  of,  83. 
Love  and  character,  216. 

„     and  light  in  child's  soul,  63. 

„     as  an  instructor,  106. 

„     of  money,  Evil  of,  196. 
Low  business  standards,  Cause  of, 

195- 
M  ••  M         Danger  of, 

195- 
„     characters,  Ruskin  on,  128. 
„     ideals,  84. 
„     morals  in  business,  194. 

McCosH  on  character,  57. 
M'Cunn  on  children's  character,  64, 


M'Cnnn  on  danger  ©f  materialism, 
195. 
„       on  good  advice,  95. 
M       on  Greek  virtues,  48. 
n        on  growth  of  character,  loi. 
H       on  higher  moral  ideas,  196. 
M       on  unconsciousness  in  the 

•oul,  5. 
M       on      unconscious       mind 

action.    70. 
t«       on  value  of  fiction,  98. 
Macdonald,  G.,  on   childtraining, 

65. 
Maeterlink  on  apperception,  96. 
„      on  change  of  character,  215. 
„       on  high  ideals,  209,  218. 
„      on  silence,  81. 
„      on  sorrow,  105. 
„      on  unconscious  mind,  9. 
„      on  useless  characters,  132. 
Mainspring  of  character,  153. 
Man's  soul,  Emerson.on,  57. 
Martineau,   Dr.,   on  want  of  con- 
science, 193. 
„        on  principles  of  character, 
119. 
Mason,  C,  on  ideas,  96,  97. 
Materialism,  M'Cnnn  on  danger  of, 

195. 
Mandsley  on  conduct,  163. 
„     on  instincts  and  doctrines,  163. 
„      on  introspection,  16. 
Memory  and  character,  131. 
Men  and  women.  Conscience  of,  185. 
t>    fi        ti     contrasted,  124. 
„    Character  of,  124. 
„   of  character,  Emerson  on,  81. 
Mental  and  physical  types  corre- 
spond, 33. 
„    dyspepsia,  99. 
„    states  and  bodily  attitudes,  32. 
Merit  and  unconscious  action,  58. 
Methods  01  early  training,  65. 
Mill,  J.  S.,  on  forming  character, 
102. 
„     on  freedom  of  will,  155; 
Mind  and  body.  Interaction  of^  29. 
H    and  character,  1-12,  220. 
„    and  conscience,  182, 
„    as  a  court  of  law,  116. 
„     Education  of  the,  106, 
„    greater  part  unconscious,  5. 
„    not  two- fold,  5. 
„     Unconscious,  4. 
„  „    andChrittimnity,  2r4. 


INDEX 


a45 


Mind,  Unconadont,  betrayg  itself, 
114. 

„  „     denied,  3. 

„  „     New  birth  in,  215. 

Minds,  conscious  and  unconscious 
Education '  of,  167. 
„      Scope  of,  56. 
„      stamped  on  stone,  31* 
„       Stagnant,  90 
„      States  of,  127. 
Miner,  Character  of  a,  79. 
Mixtures  and  compounds,  129. 
Modern  Christian  and  Greek  ethics, 

45- 

„       progress  and  character,  108. 

„       system  of  ethics,  52. 

„       views  and  Christianity,  205. 
Moral  standards,  Artificial,  193. 

M       value  and  habit,  73. 

M       consciousness     and     con* 
science,  181. 

ft       element  in  character,  170. 

H       ideas,   M'Cunn  on  higher, 
196. 

M       principles  and  parents,  237. 

n      sense  and  ideals,  82. 

ff  „      and  parents,  230. 

^  „     may  lead  us  wrong, 

161. 

M         H     or  conscience,  170. 
„      The,  176. 
Morality  and  actions,  159. 

„        and  conduct,  169. 

„        and  will,  158. 

„        as  a  habit,  72. 

„        Parasitic,  189. 
Morals  and  religion,  44, 208. 

„     ethics,  and  character,  41* 

„     in  business,  low,  194. 

„     in  professions,  194. 

„     Local  development  of,  44. 

„     Universal  sense  of,  44. 
Motives,  Egotistic  and  altruistic,  133. 

„       Good  and  bad,  133. 

„      of  character,  11,  132,  146. 
Murray  on  unconscious    Christian 
life,  214. 

Natural  and  artificial  education, 

106. 
„     and  Christian  character,  212. 
„     conscience,  183. 
„  „         The  rarity  of,  187. 

„     zone  of  conscience,  199. 
Nature  and  nurture,  68. 


Nature  of  woman,  Altruistic,  126. 
Nature,  Conflict  of,  146. 
Necessity  of  new  birth,  214. 
Negative  ideals,  84. 
Neo-platonism,  48. 
New  birth  in  unconscious  mind,  215. 

„      „      Necessity  of,  214. 

„       „      What  is  it,  214. 

„    woman.  The,  io8. 
Nietzsche  and  morality,  5a. 
Noetic  synthesis,  164,  166. 
Nurture  and  nature,  68. 

Obediencb  and  dependence,  216. 

„  to  conscience,  200. 

Obeying  conscience  causes  suffering, 

203. 
Objective  and  subjective  ainas,  ga. 

„      view  of  self,  19. 
Opinions  and  truth,  107. 
Organs  of  phrenology,  39. 
Origin  of  abstract  senses  inscrutable, 

178. 
'*  Ought "  and  conscience,  200. 

„       Power  of,  200. 
Ozone,  Character  like,  8x. 

Pain  and  conscience,  190. 

„     „    pleasure,  134. 

„    „  „      Bentham  OB,  134. 

Parasitic  morality,  189. 
Parentage  of  children,  61. 
Parents  and  balancing  character,230. 

,,      and  Bible  maxims,  231. 

„      and  circumstances,  230. 

„      and  environment,  230. 

„      and  faith  in  God,  231. 

„      and  habits,  230. 

„      and  ideals,  230. 

„      and  ideas,  230, 

M      and  moral  principles,  231. 

„      and  moral  sense,  231. 

„      and  responsibility,  231. 

„      and  will,  230. 

„      as  gardeners,  229. 

„      Formation  of  character  by, 
229. 
Paul,  St.,  on  conflicting  natures,  137. 
Peculiarities  of  Greek  ethics,  45. 
Personal  and  universal  Hedonism, 

52. 
Personality   and   character,    13-28, 

220. 
Philosophical  enquiry,  Aristotle  on, 
136. 


246 


INDEX 


Phrenology,  36. 

„  Bain  on,  39. 

„  Coombe  on,  38. 

„  Organs  of,  39. 

Physical  and  mental,  Analogy  be- 
tween, 8. 
„        and     psychic      progress, 
Huxley  on,  133. 
Pierson,  A.  T.,  on  loss  of  Christian 

ideals,  209. 
Plato  and  Aristotle,  Ethics  oft  46. 

„     on  conduct,  159. 
Pleasure,  Abdalrahman  on,  136. 
„        and  habit,  74. 
,,        and  pain,  134. 
i,       and  pain,  sources  of^  135. 
f^       as  an  object,  135. 
„        Goethe  on,  136. 
Poisonous  ideas,  99. 
Pollock,  Dr.  J.,  on  environment,  75. 
Poor  stock,  No  good  growth  from,  93. 
Porter,  Noah,  on  body  and  mind,  29. 
Portraits  and  caricatures,  27. 
Possessor,  The  seeker  and  the,  an. 
Power  of  conscience,  199. 

„      of  "ought,"  200. 
Pricking  of  conscience,  197. 
Principles   of  character,  Martineau 
on, 119. 
^      of  conscience,  201. 
„      Parents  and  moral,  231. 
„      Training  of  hereditary,  65. 
Professions,  Morals  in,  194. 
Professional  life,  effect  on  character, 

77. 
Progress  in  character,  108. 

„    Physical  and  psychic,  Huxley 
on,  133. 
Prompt  and  slow  actions,  168. 
Protestantism,  226. 
Psychic  action,  Unconadous,  8. 
Ptyaline,  Characters  like,  81. 
Public  and  private  standards,  194. 

„     selves,  22. 
Purposeless  characters,  132. 
Pursuit  of  the  impossible,  2x9. 

Qualities,  Analysis  of,  148. 

„      bad.  List  of,  151. 

M      good  and  bad,  148. 

^      good,  List  of,  149-151. 

M  of  character,  137-152,  147, 
222. 

^  Cf  conscious  and  uncon- 
scious, 1x3. 


Rare  characters,  Emerson  on,  131, 
Rarity  of  natural  conscience,  187. 
Rate  of  character  growth,  91. 
Rational  characters,  138. 
Reason  and  conscience,  174. 

„      and    instinct,    conflict    be 

tween,  116,  160. 
„      and  wisdom,  117. 
M      why   conduct    better   than 
character,  '167. 
Relative  and  absolute,  141. 
Religion  and  morals,  44,  208. 
„      Character  and  true,  225. 
„       Concepts  of,  51. 
„      Ethics  and  Christian,  49. 
„      more  than  ethics,  49. 
„      none  without  morality,  208.. 
Religious  character  of  women,  126. 
„        selfishness,  217. 
„        standard.  False,  196. 
Repression  and  development,  89. 
Responsibility  and  actions,  159. 

„  and  character,  1 17. 

„  and  parents,  231. 

Revolt  of  intellect,  226. 
Ribot   on    character    as   cause   of 

action,  163. 
Right  action,  160. 

„    and  wrong  and  abstract  senses, 
177. 
Robertson,  Dr.,  on  conscience,  176. 
Rontgen  screen  and  children,  229. 
Royce,  Prof.,  against  unconscious 
mind,  2. 
„      on  habit  and  morality,  7a. 
Ruskin  on  conduct,  165. 

„      on  God's  guidance,  216. 
M      on  low  characters,  128. 
„      on  the  evil  eye,  83. 
^      on  the  limbs  of  the  mind,  16.5 
„      choice  of  Christianity,  208. 

Sacrifice  and  self-denial,  94. 
Sailor,  Character  of,  77. 
Saviour,  Character  of  the,  140. 
Scale  of  ideals,  85. 
Science  and  art,  42. 

„        „      „  as  educators,  107. 
„      of  character,  36. 
Scope  of  mind,  56. 
Seeker,  The  possessor  and  the,  211,. 
Self  and  environment,  22. 

„   as  seen  by  others,  25. 

„   conscious  and  unconscious,  23. 

„  consciousness,  Value  of,  Z15. 


INDEX 


•47 


Self-consciousness,  Dr.   S.   Bryant 
on,  i8, 
„  control,  H.  Spencer  on,  157. 
^  denial  and  sacrifice,  94. 
^    tf  judged  by  others,  25. 
^   seen  objectively,  18. 
„   The  artificial,  21. 
„  The  fraudulent,  23. 
„  The  real,  15. 
„  The  supposed,  17. 

„  „         Table  of,  18. 

Selfishness,  Dr.  S.  Bryant  on,  14a. 
„  Prof.  James  on,  143. 

„  Religious,  217. 

„  Value  of,  14a. 

Selves,  The  various,  15. 
Sensations  and  senses,  197. 
Senses,  Abstract  and  conscious,  con- 
trasted, 179. 
M      and  sensations,  197. 
^      Special  and  abstract,  178. 
,9      The  three  abstract,  176, 
„      The  aesthetic,  176. 
^      The  logical,  176. 
„      The  moral,  176. 
Sensorium,  Contents  of,  7. 
Seven  Christian  virtues,  Angostine 
on,  51. 
„      deadly  sins,  51. 
Sexes,  Character  in  the,  121. 
Shairp,  Prof.,  on  conscience,  175, 
Silence,  Maeterlink  on,  81. 
Six  parents  of  children,  61. 
Slow  and  prompt  actions,  168. 
Small  matters.  Conduct  in,  166. 
Social  ideals,  85. 

„     self-preservation.  Conscience 

as,  174. 
„     standar ds  and  conscience,  x88. 
Soldier,  Character  of,  78. 
Sorrow,  Maeterlink  on,  105, 
Soul,  The  child's,  63. 
Sound  conversion,  Value  of,  209. 
Sources  of  pleasure  and  pain,  135. 
Speaking  the  truth,  145. 
Special  and  abstract  senses,  178. 
Spencer,  Herbert,  on  conscious  edu- 
cation,  109. 
n  N     O'l  God,  213. 

19  M     o>^  right-doing,  72. 

If  „     on  self-control,  157. 

„  „      on  the  Ego,  14. 

Spirit  of  God  and  character,  164. 
Spring  of  character,  Habit  a,  71, 

„      Two  meanings  of,  57, 
Springs  of  character,  2,  57. 


Stagnant  minds,  90. 
Standard  of  character,  Christianity, 
208. 
„        of  Christianity,  225. 
Standards,  Artificial  moral,  193. 
„  Cause  of  low  business, 

195. 
M  Cure  of  low  business,  196. 

„  Dangers  of  low  business, 

195- 
gi  False  religious,  190. 

ff  of  conscience,  184,  193. 

^  Public  and  private,  194. 

M  Social,  and  conscience, 

188. 
Starcke,  Prof.,  on  conscience,  174, 
States  of  conscience,  191. 

„       of  mind,  127. 
Stationary  character,  27,  89. 
Stephen,  L.,  on  conscience,  X74. 

,,        »,    on  virtue,  68. 
Stevenson,  R. :    Jekyll  and  Hyde, 

130,  143,  146. 
Story  of  Christianity,  225. 
Stout,  G.  F.,  on  organic  character,  i. 
„         „      on    unconscious   mind 
and  action,  70. 
Strong  body  obeys,  33. 
Subjective  and  objective  aims,  92. 
Suffering  firom  obeying  conscience, 

203. 
Sully,  Prof.,  on  character,  9. 

„  „      on  personality,  13. 

Summary  on  growth  of  character, 

no. 
Suppression  of  truth,  145. 
Synthesis,  Noetic,  164,  166. 
System  of  ethics.  Modern,  53. 

Table  of  the  known  self,  19. 
Tendencies  are  inherited,  62. 

„  Inherited,  Prof.  Holman 

on,  62. 
ff  may  become  virtues  or 

vices,  64. 
Theophrastus,  Death-bed  of,  48. 
Thought,  Atmosphere  of,  105. 
Three  abstract  senses,  176. 

„      Johns,  O.  W.  Holmes  on,  15, 
„      voices  of  conscience,  197. 
Tools,  Twelve,  for  character,  230. 
Tortures  of  conscience,  178,  180, 
Training,  Early  methods  of,  65. 

„  of  hereditary  principles,  63 
Trains  of  thought  and  character,  164, 
Transmission  of  character,  60, 


248 


INDEX 


Transmitted  character,  Huxley  on, 

60. 
Trials  and  character,  103. 
True  religion  and  character,  m§» 
Truth  and  opinions,  107. 
„      Balance  of,  145. 
„      Greatness  of,  138. 
„      Many-sided,  138. 
Truthfulness,  144. 
Twelve  tools  for  character,  230. 
Types,  mental  and  physical,  corre- 
spond, 33. 
„     of  character,  P.  Jordan  on, 
40. 

UNCONSCioua  action  and  merit,  58. 

„  „      is  mental,  7, 70. 

^  „     and    Christian- 

ity, 211,  214. 

^  and  conscious.  Quali- 

ties of,  113. 

n  n  »   selves,  23. 

M  »»  ..   will,  155. 

M  Assertion  of,  114. 

^  education,  66,  107. 

M  Greater  part  of  mind,  5. 

M  mind,  4. 

I,  „      action,   Bastian 

on,  70. 

ff  M     and  character,  3. 

ff  ^      and  genius,  65. 

,  M     betrays      itself, 

114. 

M  M     Creighton  on,  5. 

^  ^     denied,  3. 

„  M      Emerson  on,  8. 

,,  ^      Kant  on,  4. 

f^  M     Lewes,  G.  H., 

on,  7. 

215. 
„  M      Wundt  on,  6. 

Universal  and  personal  Hedonism 

52. 
Universality  of  conscience,  175. 
Useless  characters,  Maeterlink  on, 

132. 
Utilitarianism,  53. 

Value  of  adverse  circumstances,  X03. 

„  of  character,  228. 

„  of  common  words,  171. 

M  of  consciousness,  X15. 

„  of  environment,  75. 

,,  of  family  life,  76. 

^  of  fiction,  98. 


Valae  of  eood  ideas,  loi. 
M     of  humour,  144. 
„      of  ideas,  96. 
M     of  selfishness,  141. 
f,     of  sound  conversion,  109. 
„     of  the  will,  118. 
„      of  war,  104. 
Varieties  of  character,  128. 
„       of  conduct,  165. 
„       of  conscience,  191. 
Various  selves,  15. 
Via  media  in  Christianity,  207. 
Virtue  and  conscience,  203. 
Virtues,  Antiphonal,  140. 
„       Exaggerated,  142. 
„       Seven  Christian,  51, 
„       The  four  cardinal,  47. 
Voice  of  conscience,  197. 

„    of  God,  Conscience  is  not  the, 
180,  183. 
Volition  no  part  of  conscience,  182. 

Waldstein,  L.,  on  early  impres- 
sions, 66,  67. 

Want  of  conscience,  Dr.  Martineau 
on,  193. 

War,  Value  of,  104. 

Weak  body  rules,  33. 

Well-balanced  characters,  137. 

What  is  conscience  ?  173. 

Whittaker  on  unconscious  mind,  3. 

Will  and  character,  118, 153-161,222. 
„    and  decision,  157. 
„    and  morality,  158. 
M   and  parents,  230. 
„  Conscious    and    unconscious, 

155- 
„   controls  character,  156. 
„    Freedom  of,  153. 
„   Value  of,  118. 
Wisdom  and  reason,  117. 
Woman,  The  new,  108. 
Women  and  men.  Conscience  in,  185. 
„  „      „     contrasted,  124. 

„       Character  of,  126. 
„       character  altruistic,  126. 
„       Religious  character  of,  126. 
Words,  Common  value  of,  171. 
Workman's  life,  Effect  on  character 

of,  179. 
Works  and  faith,  227. 
Wundt  and  Christianity,  5a 
„      on  morals,  44. 
„      on  the  unconscious,  t, 

XoMBofconscience,  The  neutral,  199 


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